


I Am Human and I Need to Be Loved

by LieutenantLiv



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Father-Son Relationship, First Times, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Tarsus IV, Teenage Rebellion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-03-08 21:38:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 83,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3224354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LieutenantLiv/pseuds/LieutenantLiv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a teenager more often than not means there's drama, whether you're Human or Vulcan. And if you just so happen to be half Human, half Vulcan, that just complicates matters even more. When Spock meets Jim for the first time at school, he hates him. But in time, he sees James Tiberius Kirk for all he is- beautiful and broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Message To You Rudy (The Specials)

**Author's Note:**

> The day Spock's Life is turned upside down.

He’d noticed him a few times in his Terran history classes, but hadn’t focused much of his attention on him before. He was evidently new, because Spock recognised almost everyone at the Intergalactic High School of San Francisco (IHS) and he had not appeared until this academic year. He’d noticed the obvious things in his appearance, of course. He had dark blonde hair, blue eyes, he was 5’8 inches tall, and wore the same outfit almost every day- dark blue denim jeans, a grey t-shirt tucked in and worn white Nike sneakers. If Spock had given him anymore thought, he would have been surprised by such an understated appearance, considering his rather exuberant character; but he didn’t. So, as far as Spock was concerned, that was as far as his relationship with the boy would extend.

He saw him again on the third week of his first semester of 11th grade. He turned up at school on a rusty hover bike, which made an unsettling chug chug chug noise, swinging one leg over the seat and taking off his helmet, ruffling his hair back in place. He’d bent down to examine the fault in his hover-bike with a twisted pout. The next day, when he appeared on his hover-bike again, the unhealthy noise had gone.

During this time in Spock’s life, things were relatively… boring. Even he admitted it, although he was also quite content with it being uneventful. He had two more years at school before he could apply to the Vulcan Science Academy and his patience was wearing thin. While San Francisco IHS (Intergalactic high school) offered a broad and challenging education, he was after all Vulcan. He almost always achieved perfect grades and he always finished his homework quickly and efficiently, leaving time to meditate, read, or do whatsoever he wanted to do in that moment. 

If he were the average teenage boy, he would meet up with friends in his spare time. However, while Spock was liked and respected, he didn’t feel like he had any particularly good friends. He felt uneasy about meeting up with people, like he was just ‘tagging along’ or that the other people in question would rather he weren’t there at all. There were times when he’d want to join in, or speak, but before he could, he’d come to the conclusion that his contributions wouldn’t be appreciated. He had no evidence on which to base this, but he felt that way nonetheless. It was illogical. 

So he kept to himself. He told himself he was fine about that.

On school days, he would wake up at 5:45am to dress and breakfast, before heading out to school, which started at 7:00am (as a half Vulcan who could survive on less sleep than humans, he found this system satisfactory, but often heard and sympathised with the complaints of the other students around him). He would sit with two of his classmates for lunch, Nyota Uhura and Montgomery Scott, then after classes finished at 2pm he would return home at approximately 2:32pm to spend the rest of his day productively. Sometimes, he helped his father with his ambassadorial duties, taking care of simple tasks such as filing. On weekends, he would wake up at 7am and attend to his homework. He had a lot of it, since he took two more classes than most other students. 

All in all, his life was organised, clean, logical. It was mundane, excruciating and _Spock was absolutely fine with that_.

So when Spock first noticed Jim Kirk in his Terran history classes, he would be completely oblivious to how much the boy would warp his mundane, excruciating life. 

He first met him in the library.

He was researching the anatomy of the tribble for a xenobiology class. He hadn’t predicted that this would be the last hard copy in the library; his PADD already had so many windows open for his research that he wanted his other resources to be separate, for the sake of organisation. It was lucky that he’d found the last copy, as it turned out that a lot of other people had had the same idea.

The article he was reading now on tribble anatomy was more up to date and seemed to contradict the book he had in front of him. He began to note this, when he noticed a presence lingering on the other side of the table. 

There were only a handful of people studying in the library at this time so Spock instantly noticed the addition of another person nearby. He ignored them, as he was trying to focus on his studies; but it became gradually clearer that the other person was watching him.

Spock looked up with a questioning raised eyebrow. 

It was the boy with the hover-bike. He didn’t seem perturbed by Spock’s expression, when many others would have been. Instead he leaned forward slightly and whispered. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare, it’s just- I’m looking for that exact book. Do you mind if I borrow it when you’re done?”

Spock blinked. He hadn’t expected the boy to talk to him. Somehow this had slightly surprised him- it must have been a long time since he’d properly spoken to anyone else at school. It wasn’t just this which made him hesitate, though- his stare was so inexplicably intense, that Spock was slightly set aback. 

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for Spock’s response. “I was wondering if I could borrow that book,” he whispered, perhaps thinking that Spock hadn’t heard him. His eyes flicked down to Spock’s notes. “It looks like you have things covered.”

Spock held his gaze for a second. It was remarkable the impression it had; it made him very uncomfortable, like the boy was trying to read him. The only other person he knew who made him feel so vulnerable was his father, Sarek. He shook off this thought instantly, nodding very slightly. “You may. However, it is not a reliable resource. It is not up to date with modern research. I would advise using a PADD for your studies, in this instance.”

He appeared to ignore this and leaned across the table to grab the book anyway. “Thanks, but I think I’ll use the book too. My name’s Jim, by the way. Jim Kirk.”

Spock was reading through another research paper on his PADD. The boy waited for his reply. 

“This is the point where you tell me your name.”

“I am studying.”

He leaned back in his seat again, smiling. “Hm. Weird name.”

Spock looked up and gave him a weary expression, which was the closest a Vulcan could get to an eye-roll. Internally, he was taken aback by how easily Jim had evoked such emotion from him. He looked back down at his notes.

“We are in a library. I am here to work, not talk.”

Kirk’s expression was unchanged. Spock felt uncomfortable again, concentrating on his notes as much as possible to ignore the feeling that Kirk was evaluating him. 

“Do you always do this?”

“Do what?”, he said, without looking up from his PADD. It came out sounding much more irritated than he’d intended.

“State the obvious.”

Spock struggled against pinching his eyebrows together, keeping his eyes on the article he was trying to read. This boy was insufferable. “I do not state the obvious, I state the truth. Something which may be too _.complex_ for others to comprehend,” he added in an accusing tone. 

Kirk’s smile fell. “Hey, I was just playin’ with you,” he mumbled, clearly less amused by the conversation after Spock’s slight. He took out a stylus pen and PADD out of his backpack, letting them clatter loudly on the desk as he dropped them. 

Spock kept a level face. “Vulcans do not play,” he retorted as evenly as he could.

“Perhaps,” he replied innocently. He began to turn the pages of the book obnoxiously loudly, and sighed. “Although apparently, they do irritate.”

Spock looked up and scowled before he could stop himself. This Jim Kirk was- he was just _so_ -

He gathered himself, and forced his mind into a calmer state. His frown melted. “Vulcans are forthright, logical, and peaceful people.”

“And yet,” Kirk began. He paused, looking at Spock with those calculating eyes again. There was a hint of a smile teasing the corner of his mouth, “you’re still talking to me.”

Spock didn’t reply, instead looking down at his notes. 

He decided not to respond. He managed to focus, despite having Kirk sitting opposite him for the whole hour. There wasn’t any time to be distracted; forethought and rigorous preparation was essential for this class.  
Their biology teacher was an exceptionally intelligent ex-Starfleet doctor who always made her biology classes particularly challenging. She was severe, and most of the students struggled with keeping up. (Her appearance was also aesthetically pleasing, so perhaps that added to the hesitation among some of the students.) 

Spock wondered weather these students suited being in the top set, considering that he, Christine Chapel and Leonard McCoy were so far beyond their level of intelligence on the subject. Leonard McCoy was-- Spock could not stand him. He was the most illogical, frustrating, rude human being he had ever had the misfortune to meet. He was opinionated, stubborn and said insensitive things without full consideration of the people around him.

‘Not unlike someone else I know,” his mother had said. 

Spock had ignored that comment. 

Christine Chapel was a bright, energetic being with a remarkable sense of authority about her. However, she treated Spock with a singular quietness which he thought was very considerate. She obviously respected that Vulcans sought more reserved company. 

In any case, Spock ignored Kirk and prepared thoroughly for his biology class next period. He’d managed to cover a lot and had good notes, so he picked up his things and walked past Kirk without making ant sort of contact. He had a practically archaic set of headphones covering his ears, so he ignored him anyway. 

Spock hoped he’d never have to communicate with him again.

He entered the classroom- the teacher wasn’t there yet, she was often late- and settled down in his seat in the front row. McCoy was diagonally to the left of him and Christine sat directly on his right. As he arranged his notes, he didn’t notice her chewing on her pen as seductively as she could manage. 

What he did notice, unfortunately, was the idle chatter of a few people behind him. 

“I’ve heard he’s really cute.”

“Who?”

“The new kid.”

He recognised the voices of Janice Rand, Hikaru Sulu and Helen Noel. 

“Yeah, and apparently he knows loads of people in Starfleet, that’s how he got into IHS.”

“Go back to how cute he is, I wanna know more about that.”

“What’s his name?”

“Jim Kirk, apparently. And-”

The classroom doors opened and Spock’s jaw dropped a minute fraction. 

Standing in the doorway was Jim Kirk. He’d been transferred to Spock’s class? Kirk gave a cheery smile to the whole class before strolling casually to the desk on Spock’s left. Spock hadn’t stopped staring at him. In fact, the whole class was staring, each person for their own reasons. Kirk organised his things on his desk.

“So, we meet again,” he said with dramatic severity.

Spock didn’t respond.

Kirk looked at him with a sly smile. “You ready?”

Spock was ready. Kirk had no idea what was coming.

 

 

Apparently Kirk did have an idea and somehow managed to provide Spock with one of the most humiliating experiences of his life. 

His teacher had stormed in with her usual purposeful aura and within the first few seconds of entering the class demanded what the home planet of the tribble was. Spock had always answered first when she did this. 

_Had_ being the key word.

When Jim Kirk answered the question without hesitation, and gave three more answers without giving Spock any room to speak, the whole room fell into uncomfortable silence. Spock felt their eyes on him. He hoped Kirk could feel his searing glare, despite the boy’s stupid smug expression.

It had made him _so angry_.

Clever was Spock’s ‘thing.’ It was what earned him respect from his peers, when nothing else would- and then Kirk wandered into his life with his handsome features and charm (he’d managed to have a positive affect on everyone but him, it seemed) and publically tore this away from him. Of course he was logical, cool headed and good-natured, which were very admirable qualities. But now that he had an opponent for the cleverest in the class, an opponent who was already so much more charismatic than him, he felt like he would lose the respect he’d tried so hard to earn from his peers. He had no other defining qualities.

His fists were clenched as he relived every question unanswered by him, every answer which Kirk anticipated him. He’d tried to use his free period to work, but he was too distracted- which in itself, frustrated him. Vulcan’s did not dwell on such people like Jim Kirk, he reminded himself. Vulcans did not even feel anger in the first place. He might be half human, and his mother had warned him that teenage humans were rather more volatile than Vulcan teenagers, who were masters of their emotions. But Spock told himself that he could be the latter, as he focused on the exit at end of the corridor, walking through the stream of people and concentrating on keeping an even expression. 

He knew that no one could tell that he was angry; he would never convey it. However, he could not allow this feeling to continue. 

He needed to get home as soon as possible. 

“Hey, Spock, do you wanna….?”

Nyota Uhura held her math books to her chest, her words disappearing as she watched Spock storm past her silently.

Spock felt guilty about that. But all he wanted to do was go home and revise in advance for the next lesson so he could humiliate Jim Kirk the way he had humiliated him. His future relied on him excelling in class; otherwise there was no way he would be accepted into the Vulcan Academy of Science having studied at an Earth school. And now, one person was making him emotionally unstable enough to distract him from this.

That wasn’t the only thing that had upset him, though. In some twisted turn of fate (if he believed in fate, that is), Spock discovered that Kirk and McCoy already knew each other, and were even friends.

He slipped through the crowd and took a deep breath as he marched outside. The action made him instantly feel better; it was claustrophobic inside the school building, but the school yard was practically empty. He missed the Vulcan air; Earth’s air, especially that in San Francisco, was humid and cold, which didn’t help to clear his mind. Nor did the noise of broken machinery and the clanging of tools, which was coming from the school mechanics club. Spock laid eyes on the group of people disassembling a hovercar for a moment, and was about to turn away, when-

Kirk was leaning against a small hovercraft, lifting up his goggles and wiping his dirty face. He caught Spock’s eye and saluted. 

Spock scowled internally and turned away, his walk developing into a march again as he tried to rid every thought of Jim Kirk from his mind. 

 

 

Spock found it very hard living on earth, but he didn't hate it. He wouldn't easily admit it, but he cared very much for the planet. Yes, he found it frustrating; it was crowded, dirty, noisy, the people were often stupid and tiresome, it was unbearably cold for him half the year, it was disorderly and dangerous and-

Well, maybe he did hate Earth, but not entirely. Because anything was better than Vulcan.

Vulcan was cold too, but in a different way.

Spock was proud of his heritage. He was proud of his Vulcan father and his Vulcan childhood. He was proud of his logical way of life, his obedience to the teachings of Surak, and found his control of emotions admirable. But he hated the place. 

He knew that this was illogical, but that did not change his feelings. Vulcan was tidy, organised, quiet, and technically his home. It was also harsh, hot and hateful. Especially towards Spock, it seemed. Vulcans were logical, but not kind. No, they were not kind, especially the children.

Spock had never shown his true gratitude to his father when he had decided to move to Earth to be closer to his ambassadorial duties. His mother however, she saw. She had always seen through Spock's stoic veil. That day when Sarek broke the news, she had hugged Spock, and he had let her. 

Since moving to San Francisco, he had found that despite their failings- despite the crime, the anarchy and strife- human being were a loving people on the whole. He hadn't realised how much his human half had craved this.

And aside from that, human beings were fascinating. More often than that they frustrated him, but also captivated him. They were one of the few puzzles he could not solve, not yet at least. He was making progress in understanding human social conduct.

He reached an important milestone in this area a few days after the Biology class incident. 

He’d woken up that morning at first calm, then full of illogical anger. One person should not have had such an impression on him. And yet, Jim Kirk had made him more riled up than if the classroom had been occupied by ten Leonard McCoys. He barely spoke to his parents as he thoughtfully (and perhaps a little more aggressively than usual) ate his breakfast.

The event was at the back of his mind all day. This was not a comforting sign, but in certain ways it was advantageous as it meant that in Physics and Maths he excelled even more so than usual, and Kirk (who apparently shared almost all of his classes now) only answered two or three questions throughout the whole day.

No one else in the class bothered trying. 

He was back at the top of the class, and he severely hoped it wasn’t because Kirk was letting him, for both of their sakes. Even so, the residual anger still bubbled beneath his emotional barriers. It wasn’t difficult for him to hide; he’d had years of practice for that. But he still felt it, and it was frustrating and distracting. Logically, he should not be so perturbed by one boy, and yet the humiliating event of Kirk outwitting him so _arrogantly_ clung to his mind. 

It was important to remember the Vulcan way. His father’s way, his father’s father’s way, and so on. One boy as insolent as Jim Kirk was not worthy of evoking such a response from him. 

And so, eventually, he managed to continue his daily schedule without letting himself be to distracted, until yesterday’s biology class was no longer on his mind- for which he was thankful. 

At the end of his day of classes, he stayed behind so that he wouldn't be part of the huge crowd, which was overflowing out of the school's exit and into the car-park. His hands were folded at the small of his back, as they often were. He gazed at the slow moving queue before him, considering how easily human beings followed others, when he felt a familiar presence and anger spiked in his chest.

"Good plan. Stay back and let the chaos subside."

Kirk was leaning against the wall beside him, crossing his ankles and wiggling one of his worn white sneakers nonchalantly. Spock muffled the pride and anger that was gently bubbling and threatening to make him say something foolish.

So, he decided to say nothing, and waited for kirk's next obstinate move.

"Look... I'm sorry I pissed you off the other day. I like to mess around with people sometimes, and... yeah, I get kinda competitive. A real charmer, I know," he added. Spock pouted slightly to cover up an emotion which he couldn't name. Kirk cleared his throat awkwardly. "I suppose I'm not used to being around someone so reserved. We’re both pretty different, so, you know, it’s not surprising that we didn’t get on at first." Spock was struck by the considerate choice of words, and there was no malice in his voice. ‘Reserved’ was not exactly what other people his age called him, rather they preferred less mild terms. "I think we got off on the wrong foot. Wanna, I dunno, try being friends?"

He held out his hand. 

Spock looked down, a wave of panic hitting him. He looked back at Kirk. He had a warm smile, and everything about his expression, stance and manner made him welcoming. This was so different to most of his experiences with people his age-save Nyota and Montgomery- that he was unsure of what to do next. 

Shaking the hand he was offering would be the polite thing to do. But as a Vulcan, he couldn't; holding hands was reserved for particularly intimate occasions. This was not one of those occasions.

He hesitated. 

Jim raised two expectant eyebrows. Spock's gaze flitted between his hand and eyes.

Eight seconds had passed. "Right... or not." Kirk pursed his lips and pushed himself off the wall, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He began to slowly walk away with resignation. Spock realised that his mouth was hanging open and his head was tilted stupidly, so he corrected himself quickly.

"Wait."

Kirk stopped in the now almost clear corridor, hip slightly jutting out. His head rolled back, in what Spock recognised to be frustration. He turned around.

"I would like to make amends." 

Kirk's smile reappeared. 

"However, I still stand by my opinion that you are remarkably irritating."

Kirk's head rolled back as he laughed, which Spock wasn't expecting. He shook his head, walking past him.

"Oh yeah, buddy, me too. Looks like we're both stubborn asses."

Spock was about to argue when Kirk smacked him forcefully on the arm and walked away.

He had no idea what had just happened.


	2. The Affectionate Punch (The Associates)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk's not sure what he's got himself into.

Jim woke up the next morning with his face squashed against his physics book. He sat up and groaned, gingerly wiping the drool that had accumulated on page 47. When had he fallen asleep? What time was it now?

He looked at the clock. 6am. He still had an hour to get to school, which was plenty of time, and that meant that he’d slept for around four hours. Better than most nights.

He wiped his face with his hands, slowly dragging them down his face as if wiping the exhaustion away. 

“Guhhh.”

He stretched out his legs ad stiffly rolled himself off his desk chair, making his way to the shower. Showers usually managed to wash away the heaviness in his eyelids, made his body think it’d had the amount of sleep it was supposed to- but the truth was that Jim never got more than 5 hours sleep, not since he was a young boy. He’d gotten used to it. He didn’t care too much- he just drank his weight in coffee and carried on. 

And that’s exactly what he did, stepping out of the shower, shampoo foam still trickling down his stomach. He went into the kitchen- well, the corner of his one room apartment which had a cooker, an oven, and a microwave- and turned on the coffee maker he’d found in the scrap metal heap by the San Francisco docks. He wacked it a few times until it started working.

He checked the news on the TV, muting it and whistling something he’d heard the other day but couldn’t remember the name of. He mentally went through his schedule- English class (which Pike recommended he didn’t do in favour of doing advanced biology, but he loved literature too much to give it up), physics-  
Ah. That reminded him. Spock would be there.

He chuckled to himself. He couldn’t decide whether he actually liked the guy yet. He needed to mellow out, for sure, but he seemed like a decent guy. They’d just got off on the wrong foot, was all. He imagined they’d get on each others nerves plenty over the next year or two, though. Now that they were on a sort-of-maybe friendly basis, Jim hoped he’d be able to reign in the ass-hole behaviour and keep on his good side, although he doubted it. And Spock didn’t seem like the type to find his ass-holery cute.

When he’d said ‘hey, let’s be friends’ yesterday, he hadn’t really thought it through. All he wanted to do was make sure he wasn’t getting off to a bad start so early on in the semester, but honestly, he couldn’t ever imagine the two of them being real friends. Oh well, it was better than getting Vulcan stink-eye.

He downed his ridiculously terrible coffee- it barely burnt his mouth anymore, he was so used to it- threw on some clothes and took an uncooked pop-tart, shoving on his sneakers without undoing the laces. He threw on his leather jacket, locking the door behind him (although he couldn’t imagine anyone would bother stealing anything from him, unless they were particularly interested in his quantum physics syllabus).

He stuffed the pop-tart in his mouth, swung his leg over his motorbike and revved the engine.

_GrrrrRRUUUURRRrrggg._

He’d never get over that noise. 

His morning classes were slow, but interesting. Slow, in that he knew most of it already. Interesting, in that he loved it anyway. He especially loved proving that he knew it, though he tried to hold back after his little misunderstanding with Spock yesterday. 

Speaking of which, he seemed more chilled today- or at least as chilled as a Vulcan could be. He would sit bolt up right in his seat, the stiff, high collar of his Vulcan robes matching his rigid form. It was like he was always on alert, ready to defend himself from whatever came his way. If he’d noticed Jim staring, he didn’t show it. He was completely focused, sharp eyebrows ever so slightly furrowed, eyes looking straight ahead, betraying no emotion. The only thing that indicated that he was a living thing was his steady, slow breathing- but even then, it seemed more like the function of a machine than of a living being. He wasn’t like any other teenager he’d met; no doodling or day-dreaming- just complete focus. It was kinda scary. He didn’t even notice Christine Chapel giving him bedroom eyes and pouting thoughtfully during biology class. 

He was considering Spock’s admirable obliviousness when he felt something stab him in the forearm.

“Ow?”

It was Bones. “Oh calm down, princess,” he whispered.

“I’d make a beautiful princess.”

“You meeting us for lunch?”

“Uh, sure. So long as you don’t force me to eat things I don’t wanna eat.”

“Unlikely.”

The bell rang, and everyone started packing up, despite the teacher’s desperate attempt to tell them ‘the lesson’s over when I say it’s over’, even though no one ever bought that. 

Bones gathered up the last of his things. “Chris, you comin’ with?”

“Meeting Gaila, sorry.”

Jim noticed Bones watch her leave, and wondered if there was something going on there. He began to follow Bones’ lead, but stopped. Spock was behind him, patiently waiting for him to move.

“Kirk,” he said in acknowledgement. It was weird hearing someone refer to him by his surname; it felt like he was still in class. He sounded kinda pissed.

“Hey,” he responded.

The good thing to do would be to invite him to lunch, he considered. But he was so intense to be around, even just sitting next to him in class- frankly, it made him a little uncomfortable, like he was constantly being invigilated. But then, he didn’t seem to be that bad a guy; just really awkward. And they had technically made friends. 

“Wanna join us? I’m pretty sure Nyota and Scotty are gonna be sitting with us too.”

He’d seen Spock sit with them before, although at the time he had no idea who he was. Now he knew, he wondered what he’d got himself into as he stared back at him with frightening dark, still eyes. Did someone who looked like he felt nothing even want friends? Or care about them?

It looked like he didn’t want to join them for lunch after all. Jim couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. He’d thought he’d fixed that mess he’d made, but maybe Spock still held a grudge. Well, if he didn’t want to join them, then that was his choice, and it meant he wouldn’t have to worry about the Vulcan not fitting in with his rather more exuberant friends.

“We are friends then, are we Kirk?”

What did that mean? He could tell that he was staring him like an idiot, but honestly, this boy just made him lost for words, which was more than a little unusual. “Yes…? I mean, I hope so, Spock.”

Bones was standing in the doorway waiting. “Jim, you comin’?”

“Yeah, just a second- what’s the problem?”

“Why did you hit me on the arm yesterday after our discussion?”

Jim froze. What in the hell was he talking about? He’d never hit him. I mean, sure, he’d given him an affectionate shoulder clap, or something, but-

_Oh._

“Oh, right- no, that’s just a sign of affection, Spock.”

“… I see.”

“I do it quite a lot with people like Bones and Scotty, but I’ll stop doing it to you if you want.” 

Spock didn’t say anything at first. “That would be appreciated. I will join you for lunch, if you are still amenable to the idea.”

So he _did_ want to come. Although he also seemed pretty reluctant, like he was forcing himself to. Jim wasn’t sure how he felt about all this. He really doubted he was gonna fit in. “Uh, sure, you can come along.”

“Is hitting someone often perceived as a sign of affection among friends?”

 _Oh God_ , he thought. “I… I really don’t know Spock. I think generally, yes, but it depends on the person and- and I don’t hit people, I just kind of, give a friendly… pat. Ok? Please don’t go around telling everyone I hit people. You should ask Nyota about it, she’d be able to tell you a lot about Human body language. Bones- this is Spock. Spock, Bones. Or, well, Leonard, but he doesn’t let anyone call him that apart from teachers.”

“I am aware of Lenoard McCoy’s existence. Why do you call yourself ‘Bones’?”

 _Boy, this guy is quizzical,_ he thought, although he also supposed that was part of the Vulcan thing. As the walked to the cafeteria Bones’ gazed swept over Spock in a way that most people would interpret as judgemental, but Jim wasn’t so sure if Spock could pick up on those things. Then again, Spock seemed to be pretty judgemental himself. This could be a long walk. 

“You’re the Vulcan kid Jim pissed off yesterday, aren’t you?”

“I cannot know for sure that I am the one you’re talking about, but it is likely.”

“Pleasure to meet you. You’d better get used to it, he likes to make a habit out of annoying the crap outta everyone.”

“Thanks Bones. You know, sometimes I’m just blown away by how special and warm our friendship is.” 

Spock didn’t seem to perturbed by Bones’ response, though he did say, “You did not answer my original question.”

“Huh? Oh, nah- Jim’s the only one who calls me Bones. Dunno how it happened, it was so long ago.”

“No- no, it was because you were reading a medical text book when I first met you,” Jim reminisced. Wow. He hadn’t thought about that for a long time… it wasn’t actually that long ago, but it felt like a lifetime. “Remember? You were reading about the human anatomy, and you were going on about how you kept forgetting the name of one of the bones in the body.”

They reminisced a little, but Jim didn’t want to leave Spock out of the conversation, so he made sure to keep it short. He walked beside them silently, waves of tension emanating from him. He was actually thankful that he was staying quiet and listening; not that he wouldn’t be interested in hearing what he had to say, but it meant he didn’t have to look after him. He was also thankful that he didn’t have to keep them from eating each other alive; Bones was clearly on his best behaviour.

Jim wondered if Spock had any real friends here.

Having collected their lunch- they were serving pudding today, and Jim made a mental note to save his and sneak it home- they found Scotty and Uhura, who waved them over to their table. 

“Hey guys,” Uhura said happily. She noticed Spock was with them, and smiled to herself. Jim guessed she was happy he was actually getting involved with people.

They talked about random things. The new kid who’d been transferred from Troyius and was causing all sorts of trouble, how their physics teacher had been super evil this week and given them twice as much as usual, Uhura teaching them swear words in Roumlan- the usual stuff really. Spock didn’t really join in at first, but he did complain about the fact that Uhura was only teaching Romulan swear words as opposed to the valuable stuff. Everyone argued that swear words can in fact be very valuable. Spock decided it was time to teach everyone things like ‘we come in peace’ and ‘please’ and stuff, which was probably far more useful if they were ever actually captured by Romulan soldiers, but still. It wasn’t as satisfying as saying ‘fuck you’, but the lesson was nonetheless appreciated.

The rest of conversation was dominated by Scotty trying to speak Romulan with a Scottish accent and everyone laughing at him, and Uhura saying it actually sounded more accurate than everyone else’s. Uhura eventually gave up trying to teach them anything and somehow she and Scotty started singing some miscellaneous doo-wop song to themselves, at which point Jim decided it was obviously the perfect time to sweep Bones into his arms and dance around the table with him in the middle of the cafeteria. He complained at first, but the thing everyone seemed to forget about Bones was that he was a pretty fun guy. He just complained about most things at the same time.

Spock of course was a little bewildered as Jim started doing the twist and roping random enthusiastic students into dancing with him. The teacher on duty was even more confused. After all this time, Jim had kinda forgotten how school had rules and people didn’t generally start jiving around the place when they should be eating their lunch. 

Oh well. 

He and Spock had math together next period. He was very quiet for the rest of the day. Jim didn’t know if that meant he wasn’t himself, or whether he was just a quiet kinda guy. Either way, they didn’t really talk as they went to class together, which was a little awkward, but it did mean he didn’t have to force conversation. Spock did correct him on his math a couple of times when they had to work in pairs- which was _really_ annoying. Mostly because he wasn’t actually bad at math and he didn’t like being underestimated, but also because Spock just needed to take a chill pill. 

When Spock went to his last class of the day, giving him the Vulcan salute after math class, McCoy leaned around his locker door- which he’d been hiding behind until Spock left- and spoke right into Jim’s ear.

“Who is that pointed-eared hobgoblin, anyway?”

“Hey, don’t be mean. He’s an alright guy.” He said that, but he barely knew him. And he was really annoying. 

“If you say so.”

“You’ve been nice to him this whole time, I thought you didn’t mind him.”

“Mmm, probably won’t last. Now you know that I’m a patient, nice sorta person, Jim-”

Jim snorted.

“- but Vulcans just brush me up the wrong way, man.”

Jim nodded. “Yup. You have, like, _literally_ nothing in common,” he laughed. 

“Yeah. It’s not like I’m gonna piss him off on purpose, I’m not a madman. But if he corrects me on my knowledge of anatomy like he did with your math, you _know_ he’s dead.”

“Course you’re not gonna piss him off on purpose. You both do it unintentionally, that’s why this is gonna be so fun to watch.”

“You say that like he’s gonna be hanging out with us a lot.”

Jim shrugged, slamming his locker shut and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Might do, I dunno. I don’t like the idea of him having no friends around.”

“Might be a reason for that, you know.” 

“Yeah, he’s Vulcan. Which means he’s not easy to get to know, but it doesn’t mean it’s impossible- people are just too lazy to try.”

“And he’s too stubborn.”

“Hey, hey now, neither of _us_ can talk about other people being stubborn. Besides, he is sort of friends with Uhura and Scotty. Well, they have lunch together, at least. Now we hang out with them, it’d be pretty harsh to just push him out of the group when he was there first.”

They sauntered lazily to their last lesson of the day. Bones sighed dramatically. 

“Just, please don’t make me be nice to him.”

“I would _never_ , Bones.”

They bumped shoulders and Bones pushed him away, so naturally in response Jim jumped onto his back and Bones had to shake him off without Jim’s feet smacking anyone in the face. Bones always complained about Jim being childish, but he knew he loved it secretly.

Spock on the other hand… Jim was a pretty tactile person. That’s how he showed his affection. But Spock was a different story. He couldn’t just wrestle him or jump onto his back and act like an idiot. He probably couldn’t even casually hug him. He wasn’t sure why he was worrying about it so much, either.

Bones had already finished his classes for the day, so they parted ways. Politics class was always slower than the rest for some reason- probably a lot because it was his last class of the day, but also because the content was so dry. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t try his best to concentrate. He didn’t disrupt the class like other people he’d met.

Finnegan was a complete asshole. He’d interrupt the teacher with some random comment, thick with an Irish accent. He’d leave gum on people’s desks, throw paper aeroplanes. Spam people’s PADDs. It was all stupid, petty stuff that surely couldn’t be very satisfying considering he didn’t care about any of the people he tricked. It was just stuff to piss people off. His little gang would laugh on cue and he’d giggle stupidly.

Jim was just as much a victim of his pranks as anyone else, especially because he was the new kid. Jim tried his best not to respond to it, like he usually would; he liked a challenge but he also knew provoking people who were as crazy and unstable as Finnegan was a waste of time. No fun. So he tended to keep a low profile.

Besides, the tricks he played were so ridiculous that the most harm he ever caused anyone was mild annoyance. People just rolled their eyes, including the teachers, generally- although their politics professor had a tendency to get flustered when Finnegan was being particularly pissy, and right now was no exception. 

When he wasn’t doodling absent mindedly and ignoring Finnegan, he was wondering how this ‘friendship’ between he and Spock would even work. He didn’t want to change how he normally behaved and be someone else just to make Spock comfortable, but then, weren’t you supposed to adapt a little anyway amongst different friends? It wasn’t that he was that uncomfortable with holding back on being super friendly all the time, it was just… he was so different to the types of people he usually hung out with, he had no idea what to even say to him. What had he gotten himself into here? What did Spock expect from him now. 

He knew that making friends with the Vulcan made little to no sense, but there was something about Spock that he actually really liked, something which told him that the fact they were polar opposites would actually make this work. Maybe it was because he put him in his place- not in a Bones sort of way, or even in an Uhura way, but… he didn’t know. Didn’t matter, anyway, he was stuck with him now.

As per usual, politics class felt like it lasted for about three times longer than it should, so when class was over everyone practically leapt out of their seats. Leaving the building shouldn’t have been as hard as it was, but apparently today was not working out as Jim expected, in many ways.

He felt someone push him out of his way, followed by a manic giggle. Jim stopped in his tracks. 

Finnegan could spam his as much as he wanted, but no-one pushed him around. 

He turned round slowly and threateningly, locking eyes with the stupid blonde fool who was fidgeting in front of him, bent over double as he cackled. 

“Don’t push me.”

Finnegan caught his breath, leering at him. He only had a couple of his friends with him.

He could take them if it came to that.

“Or what, Newbie? Jim isn’t it? Jim Jiminny? Brainbox of our year, apart from that weirdo Vulcan, I hear.”

Jim stood in his space, looking down at Finnegan. This guy was crazy. “Don’t push me, because I’ll just push you right back.”

“Ooooh! Jim Kirk’s got some fight in ‘im! How fun, makes a nice change, gives me something to poke at.”

Jim pushed him. He knew he shouldn’t have, but he did, and that was that. Finnegan fell backwards, but found his footing before he could fall on his ass, unfortunately. People didn’t stop to watch, but they did look behind them as they tried to get out of the line of fire. His eyes grew wide and wild and his grin was reminiscent of an ape’s- the dangerous kind of smile. He pushed back some of his blonde hair out of his face.

“Little Jim Kirk,” he cooed, stepping forward so they were in each other’s faces again. “Little Jim Kirk, prepared to go down fighting, _just like his daddy_.”

There was no force on Earth that could stop him from punching this little shit in the face- 

Apart from the principle.

“Finnegan! Kirk! Split it up, now! I’m not in the mood to argue with you and I want to go home.”

Pike was watching Jim closely from where he’d wheeled out his chair, looking at him through the crowd of people as if to say ‘be careful and keep out of trouble, you can’t afford to’. He gave them both the universal ‘I’m watching you’ gesture and went into his office. 

“If you’re looking for a game, Finnegan, I’m not the guy you’re looking for. Back off.”

He smiled innocently and nodded, eyes big and glassy. “We’ll see, Jimmy. We’ll just see.” He covered his mouth coyly as he laughed, turning away and wrapping his arms around his friend’s shoulders. 

_What a loser_ , Jim thought.

Other than that, his day was pretty normal. For his third week of school, things were so far pretty uneventful- apart from, you know, the Vulcan friend thing and the whole Finnegan’s-an-asshole deal.

So he got back on his bike, like he always did, and drove to whatever he was calling home nowadays. Which was actually a pretty decent place, now, even if it was a bit cosy.

Riding his bike, feeling the wind stinging his face and the hum of the bike beneath him kept him alive. He wasn’t complaining that life was slow and painless at the moment; he’d rather that than some of the stuff he’d seen before, any day. Being safe and healthy were not pleasures he took for granted. 

But then- things also felt a bit… grey. They had done for years now. Like he was just going, but not going anywhere in particular. Like he was just going through the motions but he didn’t really know what direction those motions were actually _going_. 

Having an aim, like working towards Starfleet was helpful. But there was still that distinct feeling that everything was lacking, like he was walking through a projection rather than real life. 

_Stop thinking_ , he thought. _Won’t get you anywhere._

When he got home from school he’d usually work out, do press-ups and pull ups from the bar he’d installed in the bathroom door way, that sort of thing. So when he got home on this particular day, that was exactly what he did. It helped him push away whatever he’d been thinking about too much on his bike. He was strong for a 16 year old; working in the docks had earned him some good arm muscles from lifting beams and transporting them around the place, anchoring things down, that sort of thing. Thankfully, that wasn’t his world anymore.

He dropped down from the bar after doing 25 pull ups and stretched out, taking a bottle of water from the fridge and drifting towards his desk, where his physics books were strewn out, the one in the middle of his desk still on page 47. He fell onto his seat and sighed.

Who knew living by yourself with no family and with nothing he truly cared about apart from Bones would be so lonely. And _exhausting._

At least he was making new friends, he thought, as he flicked through the pages absently. Even if one of them was Vulcan and probably nothing like him and not remotely interested in actually being friendly. And he was safe. He had his own place, had Pike looking out for him too. Honestly, Jim was angry that he felt so empty when he had so much. He wasn’t in the position to feel like this. IHS gave him an amazing opportunity to go wherever he wanted to, and yet, he felt like there was nothing for him. No one to live it with, nothing waiting for him at the end of the line.

Hours went by, and he wasn’t sure how much of his physics notes he’d really absorbed. He slowly laid his head on his desk and tried to push back the lonely thoughts that were poking at his brain, but before he knew it, he’d fallen asleep. He woke up the next day at five am. 

_And so it begins again,_ Jim thought.


	3. Are 'Friends' Electric? (Gary Numan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock discovers that he will be forced to see Kirk a lot more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> I hope you're enjoying this so far. It'll take a few chapters for them to stop being oblivious I'm arfraid :P Please comment, I live to hear from you! 
> 
> (PS yes, every chapter is named after an 80s song. Sometimes, they'll match the theme of the chapter. Sometimes not. :) )

Almost all of Spock’s classes had now been occupied by Jim Kirk. Spock understood that Kirk also studied politics and English, where Spock instead studied advanced chemistry and advanced biology. Kirk had adapted very quickly to his transfer. When Spock had asked about his transfer one day at lunch, Kirk had explained that he had been placed in the average classes; this way, it was easier for the teachers to evaluate his intelligence and monitor his progress. After two weeks, Kirk’s teachers had come to the conclusion that he was in fact incredibly bright.

Kirk’s presence in his classes was less frustrating than it had been a week ago. After their previous meeting, he’d debated whether encouraging the development of their friendship was wise; they were, after all, two very different people, and had met friction in their initial meeting. However, Spock had surmised that to decline the opportunity to befriend someone as intelligent as Kirk after so brief an encounter would be illogical; also, he was a worthy challenge in class, and he now accepted such a challenge with far more vigour than he had known was within him.

While Spock’s mother had taught him to ‘never judge a book by its cover’- Spock had always believed that to literally do so would be illogical, so the metaphor made little sense to him- he found himself constantly surprised by Kirk’s cover. His worn leather jacket, his loud motorcycle, his supercilious attitude- none of them could have indicated how intelligent he was. Every time Kirk anticipated him in answering a question, he was met with a strange sensation, carrying surprise and something else unnamed. He was a fascinatingly unpredictable Human Being.

Perhaps there was still some residual frustration.

There was no need in responding to Kirk’s irritating behaviour. Yet despite it, he was still seeking out his company. That was mostly because Spock had no other company to keep, however.

Spock remained mostly silent during their discussions at lunch-time, and he only ever spoke in class when he was answering the teacher’s questions. Kirk did not try to make him talk when he did not want to; Spock had found that many humans wished to take part in ‘small talk’ with him, but this was not something he indulged in. He was thankful that Kirk did not force him to. That did not make it any easier for him to listen to Kirk as he laughed raucously and provoked McCoy into small fits of rage, or when he would talk about something Spock did not understand, like popular music (which was currently, apparently, that from the 20th century, more specifically the 1980s) or San Francisco at night.

Spock was content in his silence, for now. He would contribute if he felt it were wanted or needed. And so, he stayed silent unless he was directly spoken to, as he surveyed Kirk and his friends behaving like the average teenager- joking, laughing, dancing. All things Spock was not acquainted with.

And that was fine.

In advanced physics later that week, the teacher announced that the class be put into pairs, and each pair would work on a project with a specific title.

Spock did not like working in pairs. He felt that it impeded his own progress and left the other participant confused and lacking the opportunity to participate. There was also the issue of whom he would be assigned to.

“Hikaru Sulu- Pavel Chekov…”

Spock looked at the teacher expectantly, whilst Kirk and McCoy whispered to each other, no doubt hoping that they would be paired together.

“Leonard McCoy- Christine Chapel.”

Spock now focused his attention on the two boys, McCoy smiling smugly and whispering fervently to Kirk. Christine Chapel appeared to be disappointed, for some reason. He had thought that the two were friends.

“Jim Kirk- Spock.”

McCoy slapped Kirk on the back as he nudged his chair closer to Christine’s. Jim looked to Spock with a brief expression of surprise. Spock did not return a similar expression.

“So, the two of us, working on a project.”

“Indeed.”

Kirk fiddled with his pen, watching as he twisted it between his fingers idly. “Might actually help us with the whole trying to outwit each other deal.”

Spock inclined his head to the side. “Please elaborate.”

Those blue eyes- so blue they sometimes took Spock by surprise- looked up at him, conveying an expression which was almost taunting. "Well, we'll be working _together_ instead of against each other, this time. Who knows what'll happen."

Spock decided he would benefit from not dwelling upon this speculation.

The class had the option to pick a topic for their project. All of the topics were sufficiently interesting, but Scott- who had asked the teacher to do the project alone- had chosen the most fascinating: the theory of trans-warp beaming technology. Spock couldn’t help but be a little jealous, although he also admitted to himself that he and Kirk’s chosen subject was sufficiently challenging too: the concept of ships which could withstand travel through wormholes. Mr Asaraak had intentionally chosen theories which were yet to be proven even by the world’s best scientists, and impossible for a high school student to figure out, let alone explain. He called this project a ‘no-win scenario’.

“I don’t believe in no win scenarios,” Kirk had muttered when Mr Asaraak had said this.

Just as they were discussing their chosen topic- the most temperate conversation they'd shared so far- Helen Noel turned round in her seat in front of Kirk.

“So, Jim, which question have you picked?”

Spock was not sure why she had directed her attention specifically towards Kirk. After all, his project as also Spock’s. However, Noel seemed intent on talking only to Kirk, who responded positively to her question, leaning over his PADD so that his face was closer to hers.

“Wormhole travel. You?” He added a gratuitous smile, which Spock thought seemed inappropriate.

“Gaila and I are doing self-sustainable warp core technology. Or something.” She giggled. Kirk rested his chin on his palm, which complimented the gradient of his jaw.

Spock turned away.

“Ah, you could do that with your eyes closed, I’ve heard about the kind of marks you get.”

“I didn’t know you had such in interest in my grades, Jim.”

“Well, you’re an interesting person, Helen…”

Kirk’s flirtation’s often met this pattern, and he would usually chose a new object for them every day. Spock did not find ‘flirting’ a particularly distasteful activity, whilst he never partook in it himself; it was Kirk’s determination to do so in the most inappropriate times- like physics class- which frustrated him. He would often converse with Uhura in such a fashion. Nyota was not attracted to Kirk at all, as she had made it perfectly clear to him in front of his whole friend group. Everyone- including Kirk- had found this a subject of amusement. And yet he persisted to flirt with Nyota, and sometimes she would even return the sentiment, despite their understanding that neither were looking for a relationship with each other.

Human beings were indeed complicated, and Kirk was no exception from this observation.

Spock began to research their project topic on his PADD as Kirk continued his flirtations. He did not speak to him for the rest of the class.

Lunch followed the same parameters as the previous ones with Kirk and his friends had. It involved jokes he did not understand, music references he did not recognise, and the occasional topic which he could partake in but chose not to. Kirk would allow his friends to take their turn in the lunch queue before him, and would often sneak food into his pockets without the staff noticing. Spock had chosen not to tell him that this was against the school rules, as he knew that Kirk would be aware of this considering his intelligence.

Today, he had helped a junior pupil pick up her tray and its content when one of the school’s resident bullies and pranksters, Finnegan, had knocked it out of her hands. He had been nowhere near the scene, but he had gone to help anyway, bending down to salvage and pick up the remnants of her food.

_Fascinating._

When they sat down (after Kirk and Hikaru Sulu had partaken in a fencing match using plastic spoons) the usual conversation ensued. What project titles were they doing? What had Uhura learned today in Klingon class? What were they all doing after school? McCoy argued that Asaraak’s project assignments were too difficult, and that giving high school students ‘no win scenarios’ as an assessment was ‘damn near mad’. Jim and Scotty disagreed.

This was generally the type of conversation Spock sought to listen to- neither ignoring it, nor partaking in it. It served as a effective way of gathering information on each of the members of the group. This was important for him to ascertain before he involved himself further in the group-

“What about you Spock?”

Spock looked up from his soup, spoon hovering between his mouth and bowl. He had not expected Kirk to address him directly, but now that he had, he wasn't sure whether staying to his original plan was the best option. Everyone within the group was waiting for his reply, except for Uhura who had begun to talk with Gaila in Orion.

Spock placed his spoon back in his bowl.

“I believe that procuring ‘no win scenarios’ for students as inexperienced as ourselves is illogical. However I find satisfaction in being provided such a challenge.”

“Aye, tha’s what I’m tryna say,” Scott said, gesturing to Spock. “Challenge is good, you cannae complain.”

“’Now win scenario,’” Kirk muttered, shaking his head as he reluctantly ate the salad McCoy had forced onto his tray. “Such bullshit. Give someone enough time and nothing is impossible.”

“That is not entirely accurate.”

Kirk looked at him, as though he were as surprised to now hear Spock talk as he was himself. Spock couldn't help but examine those piercing his blue eyes again, and was reminded of the first time they met in the library, when he had been the subject of Kirk’s infuriated stares. He smiled. “Yeah well, it’s what I believe. Anyway, anything’s better than not being challenged at all- I mean the past few weeks have been pretty slow.”

“Speak for yourself,” McCoy said, pointing a fork in Kirk’s direction. “Not everyone’s as smart as you around here.”

“I can’t be the only one who thought it wasn’t that challenging. I mean, we’re in advanced physics for a reason. Spock?”

“I am inclined to agree.”

Scott nodded in agreement, whilst McCoy sighed loudly. “Of course you'd say that, you're _Vulcan_. You’re both mad.”

Spock decided not to take this as an offence, since nearly everything McCoy said was in some way offensive or socially inappropriate.

That was his contribution to the conversation. It was more than he’d ever said to anyone at this school outside of the classroom.

He continued to eat his soup.

Later, when he, Kirk, and McCoy made their way to biology, Finnegan passed them again. He leered at Spock, and he did not respond.

Kirk had noticed, and looked at Spock quizzically.

When Finnegan then noticed Kirk, he walked directly into his shoulder, knocking Kirk off balance. There was a struggle in Kirk’s expression as he tried not to react- either physically or verbally.

The rest of the day continued as per usual, and he thankfully managed to avoid Finnegan’s attention for the rest of it.

After his classes had finished, Uhura accompanied Spock as they left the school, as she said her father was coming to pick her up from the front of the building.

“It’s nice to see you around more. I know we’re all a bit mad, I hope we haven’t scared you off too much.”

Nyota was anything but mad. She was beautiful and still, graceful in everything she did. She looked at him for a moment as they walked, with those eyes that seemed to read everything anyone did or felt.

“You are not mad, nor have any of you acted in any way to ‘scare’ me. I would say, however, that McCoy’s volatile nature is concerning.”

She laughed lightly, pressing her books to her chest. “That’s true. Well, I’m glad you’re you hanging out with us, even if Bones is… high maintenance.”

Looking at her now, Spock wondered why she was talking with him. He was not as outwardly intriguing or exuberant as Kirk or McCoy, or Scott. Nyota had always expressed an interest in being with Spock. He could not explain it. She met his gaze, only to look away quickly again.

“I have offered little to any of our conversations, and yet you are still pleased to see me involved with the group.”

Nyota replied at first with a small smile. “You don’t need to say anything, it’s still nice having someone who’s relatively quiet and sane around. Besides, we’re interested to hear what you have to say, when you want to say it.”

He looked at her. While Vulcans did not lie, humans did. He could not always tell when humans were lying and when they were not, but Spock thought that Nyota was not the type to do so. He struggled to understand why she would show such patience with him, and it frustrated him. And it made him nervous.

“Is this the general consensus of the group?”

She laughed again. “I don’t know, Spock. They clearly don’t mind having you around, though. And remember, Jim was the one who invited you- he’s a good guy, behind all the bravado. He wouldn’t have brought you along if he didn’t like you.”

She waved and met her father in the car. Spock walked home considering how he had suddenly acquired these friends.

 

Dinner at the house of Sarek was usually a quiet affair, as was every other event in the household. Mother would speak carefully and kindly, making sure not to overstep the societal boundaries of a Vulcan relationship despite the fact that she was on her own home planet. She would ask Spock about his day at school, he would reply briefly with whatever had happened during the day which was worth note, and she would then ask Sarek how his day of work was, who would reply similarly. Mother then recounted her day, often prompted by Spock’s queries. The rest of the meal would be spent in silence.

“What did you do in school today, Spock?” she asked, placing her cutlery on her plate of roast vegetables as she waited for his response, hands laid modestly on her lap; hands were the most emotive part of the Vulcan anatomy, and during her years on Vulcan, mother had learned to conceal her hands when she could as a sign of respect. She continued to do this even on Earth.

Spock similarly put down his cutlery. “I took part in my usual classes and ate lunch with my colleagues.” He didn’t want to admit that they were more friends than colleagues; he was not sure why. It somehow felt an unnecessary piece of information to share. “I have been assigned to Jim Kirk for a joint advanced physics project.”

Mother smiled, a very small display of emotion which was barely more than twitch. It showed more in her eyes than anywhere else. Spock would never admit it, but he appreciated her human sentiments.

Sarek did not show any sign that he was listening to the conversation, but Spock new he was. He sat up a little straighter in his seat.

“That’s a nice change,” mother said. “Learning to share one’s work with someone else is an important skill to learn.”

Spock inclined his head slightly to the side as he considered this. “Indeed, though it is one which I have difficulty in honing.”

Her eyes smiled further; almost a laugh, though she would not do so out loud in front of father. “I’m sure you’ll approach it with the same focus and success as you do with you other assignments. You haven’t spoken of Jim Kirk before. Is he a friend?”

Now that she was directly asking him if he was his friend, he felt he could not lie. Then again, it was hard to tell whether they really were friends. “Yes,” was his decided response.

Mother thought about this, giving a small, slow nod. “I wonder if he bares any relation to Captain George Kirk. He would be just the right age.”

Spock had wondered about this also, but had thought it an invasion of privacy to pursue the curiosity any further. Approximately 16 years and 5.3 months ago, George Kirk died in the destruction of the USS Kelvin, while his wife and newborn child escaped- which would, indeed, make Jim Kirk ‘just the right age’ to be his son. He nodded once in agreement.

“Is Jim Kirk a suitable partner for this project?”

Spock was surprised at first to hear his father speak to him. However he soon remembered his vested interest in Spock’s academic progression; like his father, and his father’s father, Spock was expected to apply and be accepted into the Vulcan Science Academy. He already suffered the ‘disadvantage’ of his half human heritage. Studying at a high school on Earth furthered his disadvantage. As a result, Sarek sought to make sure his son’s academic progression was at least equal to what would have been expected of him as a student at a Vulcan school.

It was logical to be concerned, then. Joint projects were not customary among Vulcans. Mother had said that learning to share work with someone else was an important skill; this was not a Vulcan belief.

However Spock found Sarek’s concern in the matter unwarranted.

“Jim Kirk’s intelligence is significantly above average. He is the best in the class, second to me. He will be a satisfactory partner in the project.”

Sarek watched him for a moment, before nodding in assent of Spock’s logic and continuing his dinner.

The rest of the meal was spent in silence.

Spock realised that his relationship with his father was not an ideal father-son relationship, by human terms; however, for two Vulcans, their relationship was sufficiently functional. Spock did not want or seek any affection from his father. That did not fit the parameters of their relationship. All he needed from Sarek was guidance when he needed it, and he offered this in his interest in Spock’s academic life and his future at VSA.

No more thought was needed on the matter.

Spock thanked his mother for the meal, cleaning his plate and leaving it to dry. He went up to his room, where he intended to do the work that both he and his father knew was necessary if he was to be accepted into Vulcan society. He took his books out from his bag and laid them out on his desk, organising everything so that he could view everything from the angle he was working at.

His PADD was flashing.

_> Hey so I’m really sorry I wasn’t 100% there in physics today, kinda got distracted_

_> anyway it occurred to me that we didn’t come up with a time and place to meet up and work on the project :O _

Spock read the messages. While he had never given him his PADD details, he could only assume that this was Kirk messaging him.

He readied himself to respond, ignoring the :O symbol, since he was unaware of its meaning.

_< I assume that I am addressing Jim Kirk. How did you access my PADD details? To do so without my permission is a severe breach of privacy._

_ >yeah it’s me!!! I’m pretty handy with technology, I’m not just a pretty face you know ;) anyway yeah I figured me finding your PADD details wouldn’t creep you out too much since we’d have to exchange them at some point anyway. Need to message you if we’re gonna do this efficiently right_

Kirk had not answered how he had found his details. However, having considered his logic, Spock came to the conclusion that Kirk’s actions were resourceful, considering the circumstances.

 < _I accept your logic. When and where is suitable for us to begin working on the project?_

_ >hmmm are you the kind of person who needs to work in complete silence? I can imagine you getting grumpy if you aren’t working in complete silence_

_ <Vulcans possess the ability to focus in any situation. _

_ >okay so would you be ok with working at the diner down the road from school? I promise it’s not too loud, and it does super good food, vegetarian stuff and everything_

Spock knew which diner he was talking about. He was aware that Kirk and his friends frequented there regularly. Uhura had invited him there before, but had always declined.

He would have preferred to meet somewhere more conductive to working. However, the only other place he could imagine being comfortable working in would be his own home.

He did not wish to introduce Kirk to his parents.

Particularly not his father. He did not deserve to be the subject of his scrutiny.

_< I am amenable to this suggestion. _

_> oh cool okay I was definitely expecting you to argue with me then_

_> okay well how does 3:30 after school tomorrow sound_

_> we can decide how often we want to meet afterwards. We can just find each other during the day and be like ‘hey wanna do some physics’ sorta thing, you know?_

_< I understand. I will meet you tomorrow at 3:30, Jim Kirk._

_> okay cool see you then I guess. Well I’ll see you before then in class too_

_> also thanks for backing me up today with the whole physics project discussion_

_> everyone think’s im crazy for wanting to be challenged but honestly how could you turn down the opportunity to improve you know? I mean im not the type of guy to ask what the homework is when the teacher forgot to mention I, im not cruel, just, you know, you’ve gotta take advantage of the what you’re being offered right_

Kirk’s tendency to add phrases such as ‘you know’ and ‘right’ was fascinating to Spock. For someone so confident, it was incongruous that he sought verification of what he was arguing.

_< You’re logic was sound on the subject. I appreciated your consideration of my opinion._

_> oh_

_> well hey no problem _

_> don’t be so scared to share it next time, ok?_

Spock felt, somehow, that he would not.

_< You’re advice has been noted._

_> haha ok Spock see you tomorrow~_

Why Kirk found reason to laugh, Spock did not know.

 


	4. Marquee Moon (Television)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chess matches and instant messaging.  
> (The little arrows before the the sentence shows who's sending the message, just for reference; it could get confusing otherwise!)

There was definitely something about that Vulcan.

He confused him mostly. He didn’t speak like a normal person; he didn’t try to empathise or respond in a way that would continue the flow of the conversation. No, he made _everything_ difficult, for himself and everyone else. He was practically robotic. Maybe that was just how Vulcans rolled.

Except, unpredictably, Spock took his advice and spoke up a little more when they were hanging out as a group- which they did more and more often now. Looked like he’d found a nice little group of friends, Jim noted, which he wasn’t anticipating at all. He thought when he’d go to IHS he’d just knuckle down, chill with Bones every now and then but over all not get that involved with people. Graduating without causing any trouble and passing the Starfleet exams was all he wanted to do, but now he’d found just that little bit extra, even if it did mean that one of those extras was a super awkward teenage Vulcan with zero social skills.

It was kinda cute, in a way.

Having a group of friends was helping to slowly bring him back to the real world again, after years of feeling sort of grey and lonely. That wasn’t to say that when he smiled and laughed it was _completely_ genuine, but he could feel himself getting there and he was thankful for that. It was an unexpected, but hugely appreciated bonus.

He’d gotten to know each of them pretty well already, too. Bones, obviously, he knew before IHS. He was stubborn and grumpy and actually pretty happy at heart. And did _not_ know how to talk to girls.

Uhura was the cleverest person he’d ever met, and also the most beautiful. She was funny and graceful and honestly she should probably just rule the world. That being said, she cared about them more than they all deserved and would always be that person who listened. If Jim were the type to talk, that is.

Scotty was… well, mad. There wasn’t much else to it. He cared more about physics than people. Kind of a sociopath, really. But he was also the kind of guy to go the extra mile for the few people he actually connected to.

Christine was fierce and sharp and would put them all in their place before Uhura would, but was softened by the fact that she adored them all too (especially Spock. Seriously, how did he not notice that?). She would do those little things, like give you her extra bread roll at lunch when she really wanted it for herself, or show you her work for an answer if you needed help, or pass you little notes in class just to say hi. One time, she’d brought Jim a coffee before class, just because she’d noticed how much he liked it.

Sulu was just a really funny guy. He’d always sass everyone and have _just_ the right timing, and it always came as a surprise because he was usually quite quiet until he said something really sarcastic. He was always willing to play fight with Jim (when Bones was always grumbling about it) and constantly made him laugh.

Chekov, he didn’t know so well yet. He just knew that he tagged along with Sulu and that he practically worshiped him. He also looked like he was, like, 12 or something.

And then there was Spock.

Spock seemed to be emotionless, but he knew there was more to him than that. He might have done a little bit of research on Vulcans, in fact- turns out, there’s not much about them on the internet or in libraries, unsurprisingly, considering Vulcan privacy and all. However, Jim _did_ discover a copy of Surak’s philosophies online; apparently, Vulcan emotions ran deep. Like a fast flowing river, Vulcan emotions are so strong and overwhelming that a dam needs to be put up to prevent their emotions from overflowing and controlling them. Vulcans used logic as a way to keep control of themselves; but that certainly didn’t mean they didn’t feel.

Jim found this intriguing; so Spock _did_ feel. He probably felt all the angsty teenage stuff that everyone else did, he just wasn’t allowed to show it or let it take over. Or at least, that was what Jim assumed.

In the end, he knew nothing about Spock at all.

Jim had always liked a challenge. When he would hit a wall, he’d get frustrated and angry and it would piss him off for days and days; but then his determination would kick in, and suddenly all he’d be able to think about would be ‘I have to figure this out’.

And now, he needed to figure Spock out. At first he’d pissed him off (and he still kinda did, but not really), and now he couldn’t help but wonder what the guy was all about. He was Jim’s new challenge.

So after their lunch time break- when the bunch of them would sit outside chatting on the bench, Spock sitting there like he was in a meeting- Jim decided it was about time he and Spock had some one to one time that _wasn’t_ all about wormhole technology.

They’d had a few study sessions for their project already, but there wasn’t really much small talk. Apparently they didn’t ‘need small talk to aid the progression of our project’. Jim would occasionally glance up at him, really _look_ at him and try and catch some glimmer of emotion. Sometime it was the quirk of an eyebrow, or maybe a judgemental pout if Jim was trying to make a joke. But most of the time- nothing.

There wasn’t any need to poke at him; Jim didn’t want to freak him out, he didn’t want to mess him around. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try and ease away his logic facade, one layer at a time. Not in a cruel way; just in a ‘I’d like to get to know my friend a little’ way.

Spock was heading to the library; where he always was if he wasn’t in class, it seemed.

“Hey, wait up.”

Jim jogged up to him in the corridor, and Spock stopped and waited for Jim’s explanation for why he was waiting for him.

"You got a free period?”

“Yes.”

“Me too- I was thinking, I used to be kind of a whizz at chess, but I haven’t played in ages; you play?”

Spock’s eyebrows flicked upwards, surprised by Jim’s request. He didn’t know why he reacted that way, they’d spent quite a lot of time with each other at this point. He really must not be used to people genuinely wanting to hang out with him outside of academic circumstances. Vulcans were pretty difficult, after all.

“I do; I, however, play it quite regularly.”

He grinned. Spock seemed even more confused now. “Challenge accepted.”

“I did not intend to challenge you, I merely stated that I have had more experience than you.”

“Yeah, and that’s pretty much a challenge in my books, even if you didn’t mean to say it that way.”

“You believe you can beat me.” It was a statement, not a question; as if he knew what Jim meant, but couldn’t quite believe it. As he walked along with him to one of the common rooms, Jim swore his voice sounded amused.

“Yeah. Eventually. Not saying I will today, but- someday.”

“You imply that this will become a regular occurrence.”

Jim hadn’t considered that, although he had definitely implied it in his words. “Yeah, I guess. Depends on how today’s match goes. You could end up hating me for all eternity because I won.”

He threw a raised eyebrow at him which said ‘are you sure about that’ which made him laugh out loud. Considering how little Spock said and how little emotion he conveyed, it was surprising how expressive he could be.

He was actually really easy to talk to, as well, despite appearances, which caught him off guard. Better watch out for that.

He knew he was mad for challenging a Vulcan to a chess match; he hadn’t played against anyone real for years and years- not since elementary school. If Bones were here, he’d be calling him an idiot. But Bones wasn’t here- it was just him and Spock. And Spock alone would probably make him feel like an idiot soon enough, anyway.

It was interesting to consider what Spock was expecting; he knew he was smart by now, but how smart? Sure, he hadn’t been brought up on Vulcan, but Jim thought he could probably give him a run for his money. Did Spock still think of him as an idiot, even though… well, he kind of was. He had no idea what the Vulcan was thinking. It was infuriating.

Jim found an empty table the common room, which was relatively quiet; it was still warm out, so generally people would go into the school yard if they wanted to relax. The common rooms were usually used for doing homework and chilling, nothing too noisy, which made it perfect for their little chess match. He took out a board and its pieces from one of the bookshelves.

“White or black?”

Spock sat opposite him and chose black.

“Hmm. Wanna give me a head start? Pitying me, Spock?”

“My intention was to give you the advantage, considering I already have the advantage of my Vulcan heritage.”

“Thought as much. You know what? Fine. I usually pick white, anyway. You’ll be sorry.”

He made his first move. Spock responded quickly. Their first few moves kept this fast pace, until the 7th one, where Jim paused to consider his tactics.

If Spock was all about logic, he couldn’t win using logic himself. So, he went down his usual route; be unpredictable.

He made his move and Spock’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’re tactic is… intriguing.”

He smiled. “Exactly.

He tilted his head to the side in thought, responding by moving his piece. “You decide to intentionally avoid what is logical in order to prevent your opponent predicting your moves.”

“Yep. Plus the odd leap of faith.” Jim moved.

Spock moved. “You believe faith can overcome logic?”

Jim moved. “You don’t have faith, Spock?”

Spock paused. He moved. “Faith is not something which Vulcans enjoy. We rely on logic.”

It as Jim’s turn to pause now, but not for long. He couldn’t be the one lagging behind. “You wouldn’t say that Vulcans have faith in logic?”

He frowned, for an infinitesimal moment. Jim barely noticed it, but it was definitely there, though the expression disappeared when he blinked.

“To have faith is to trust in something without proof. By definition, logic is that which follows the pattern of proof. To have faith in logic, then, is a contradiction.”

“Not necessarily.” He made his move. “People who have faith in the religious sense believe that their scriptures are evidence of their God. People who have faith in love have seen it before and believe it will pull through. Of course, God doesn’t always answer people’s prayers, and love doesn’t always conquer all; nor does logic. It might work out the majority of the time, but there are certain situations where logic doesn’t win. So for Vulcans to rely on logic is no different to having faith in anything else.”

Spock was silent for a few moments. He made his move. Jim smiled. He’d made the logical choice, again.

Jim moved.

“You offer an interesting perspective on the philosophy of logic, Kirk.”

He snorted. “Call me Jim, Spock. That _is_ my name; we’re not _colleagues._ We made friends, remember?”

Spock blinked. Either he was just blinking, or that was an expression of surprise, or happiness, or something. “I remember… Jim. Vulcan memories are very reliable.”

“What, like Vulcan logic?” He smirked, making his move and sneaking a look up at Spock to see his reaction. There was the judgmental pout.

They played in silence for a while, the speed of their moves slowing down. There was background noise of people having conversations, some watching their game for a few seconds before someone else started speaking again. Jim twiddled the bishop between his thumb and index, aware that Spock was watching the action, waiting for him to move it.

“It must get pretty lonely.”

“I do not understand.”

“Being the only Vulcan in the school. Not having anyone to share the Vulcan lifestyle with. I’m sorry you don’t have that.”

He looked away from Jim’s hand playing with the rook and steepled his hands in front of his face, surveying the board. His shoulders were suddenly more rigid; Jim hadn’t even noticed them relaxing in the first place.

“I do not seek company in the same way Humans do.”

“So… you don’t miss it? Vulcan, I mean? Other Vulcans?”

He looked up at him for a second, then back at the board.

“No. ”

 _Wow. Hit a pretty solid wall there,_ Jim thought.

“So, Vulcans don’t miss things either?”

“Correct.”

“That must be nice.” He’d spoken before he meant to; he really did need to watch out around Spock. He was deceptively easy to talk to.

Something softened in Spock’s expression. His forehead was still slightly furrowed, though, his eyebrows sharp, his jawline matching their gradient. Like his face had been sculpted to the most logical, symmetrical details possible.

“In any case, I would have no reason to feel lonely. The presence of friends negates the feeling of loneliness, does it not?”

He looked at Jim- he seemed genuinely inquisitive about the matter, and there was something so innocent in his expression that he laughed.

“Yeah. That would be the logical thing.”

They both looked down at the board. Spock made a move.

“Humans are not logical.” He said it like he was answering his own question.

“No, they’re not. Anyway, wouldn’t life be boring if _everyone_ were logical?”

There were those eyebrows again, flicking upwards for a moment, and then in the blink of an eye they were back to forming Spock’s usual stoic expression. Jim moved.

“It would most likely be easier.”

“Exactly. And what’s life without a little challenge?"

“One may find a challenge in other areas of life, without the facing the difficulties of navigating Human emotion.”

Jim laughed, shaking his head. “I guess so, Spock.”

Spock moved.

Jim smiled.

“Check,” he said, moving his queen in line with Spock’s king.

Spock rectified the situation.

“Your tactic does well against mine, however, it cannot last.”

“We’ll see.”

They played and talked like this until the end of the period. When the bell rang, their game was left unfinished.

“Think you can remember where all our pieces are, so we can continue this tomorrow?”

Spock helped him pack away the chess pieces. “We should attempt to do our prescribed work during our free periods, Jim.”

“Psshh.” Spock looked at him with his eyebrows knit together, like he’d never heard anyone make that noise before- which wouldn’t surprise Jim. “We know what we’re doing in class, right? It’s all fine. Anyway, chess is sort of academic. Kinda.”

Spock didn’t reply at first. “I will remember the position of our pieces for us to continue the game tomorrow.”

He grinned, swinging his bag onto his back. He was about to slap him on the back, before he thought twice. His arm swung awkwardly instead, and he grabbed the handle of his bag to make it seem natural. “Great. I look forward to it.”

Spock looked away. Jim swore he could see his mouth almost twist into something sort of resembling a half smile. Maybe.

“As do I.”

 _Success,_ Jim thought, though he didn’t know what he’d succeeded at really. He still knew so little about Spock, but at least he was making progress with their friendship. He felt pretty satisfied with their game today. He was really getting to like hanging out with Spock, it seemed. Which was sort of unexpected.

Math was revision of what they’d already covered over the past four weeks, which meant that Bones was squinting at the board and grumbling conspicuously beside him, whereas Jim wasn’t paying much attention. He was doodling a starship called the USS _Awesome_.

Suddenly his PADD flashed.

 _No way,_ he thought.

> _It appears that you favour indulging in pointless activities such as drawing the so-called ‘USS_ Awesome’ _over paying attention to Ms. Nwosu’s lesson._

Jim honestly couldn’t believe that this was happening. He stared at the PADD and smiled to himself, telling himself to remember this moment.

_< oh my gosh spock are you seriously messaging me right now instead of listening to your own advice_

_< I’m surprised, I thought you were all about being the top student even though you already know it back to front_

_< im genuinely impressed wow_

_> As you have mentioned, I am already well versed in what Ms. Nwosu is teaching today; I am losing nothing in talking to you now._

_< gee thanks that’s so sweet I’m glad youre not loosing anything by taking the time to talk to me_

_> Your thanks are not needed, however they are appreciated._

_< no spock _

_< ugh never mind_

_< wait no im not gonna ignore this, that wouldn’t be fair to you_

_< are you aware of sarcasm and how its used spock_

Spock didn’t reply at first. Jim turned to his left to look at him. Spock didn’t look back, but he did have his head tilted as he considered his response.

_> I am aware. Am I correct in thinking that your previous message thanking me for ‘taking the time to talk’ to you was an example of sarcasm?_

_< yes. Yes it was_

_> The complexities of Human humour evade me._

_< you’re not alone there spock don’t worry_

_> I was not anxious about the matter._

_< yeah I know but_

_< oh never mind_

_< a little embarrassed you saw my doodle though_

_> ’Doodle’._

He didn’t even ask what it meant. He just sent the one word, and it seemed to stare at him like he was moron for even using it.

< _um it means to draw random stupid things. Although doodles can sometimes be really artistic_

_< im guessing Vulcan kids don’t really doodle much _

_> Correct. However, Vulcans are not forced to revise what they have already learned and waste their time as we are currently doing._

_< haha yeah I guess that would be true with the whole reliable Vulcan memory and all_

_> This is correct.  
>Are we meeting to discuss our physics project after this class?_

Jim thought. He thought maybe Spock enjoyed spending time with him too. He hoped so. He didn’t seem to have anyone else he could really do that with- although he guessed Chris Chapel would be more than happy to volunteer her services.

He suddenly felt immensely proud that Spock had chosen him. And honestly- he had no idea why he had. But being liked by someone who generally didn’t talk to anyone was a really nice feeling.

< _yeah why not. Im dying for some fries too, we should get some fries_

_< do you like fries? I just always assume everyone likes fries but it just occurred to me that you might not_

Jim watched him formulate his reply in his peripheral vision. He was sat up straight, like he was on the job. Although, technically, he was kind of supposed to be- they were in class after all. Jim, however, was sprawled on his desk, pretending to write when in actual fact he was drawing a little crew disembarking from the starship _Awesome._

_> I do not dislike them. However, I prefer foods which have not been deep fat fried._

Jim almost snorted out loud. He looked around to check that he hadn’t and that no one was looking.

_< how virtuous of you_

_< nah im joking it’s fair enough you can practically feel them filling your arteries, you’d’ve thought someone had thought up a way to make them healthy by now, it’s the 23rd century goddammit_

_< Christ I sound like bones _

_> An event you should avoid in the future, if it all possible. _

Jim curled up and hid his face in his shoulder to muffle his laugh, still lying on his desk.

_< im surprised you and bones haven’t actually murdered each other yet_

_< NOT in the literal sense spock ok I mean _

_< im surprised you haven’t had an actual argument yet _

_> I have found no reason to argue with someone as illogical as McCoy, since he is impossible to reason with. However, I do not doubt that we will ‘loose our patience’ with each other in the future. _

_< im actually quite excited_

_< promise I’ll be there when it happens ok I have to see it _

_< I don’t even know who’d win_

_> I find your lack of faith in my logic disappointing, but understandable considering our conversation over our chess match. _

_< hahaha I dunno I just think he’d say something that makes no sense and you’d have nothing to reason with, or you’d say something so complicated and logical that bones would have no way to twist your words_

_< it’ll be thrilling to watch_

_> I am glad that you find entertainment in our incompatibility._

_< hey_

_< hey was that sarcasm_

_< spock you’re learning fast im proud of you_

_> You’re appreciation is noted. _

“Jim Kirk- are you listening? You might have something to learn from this, Kirk, even if you do think you know everything. Sit up.”

Jim sat up in seat reluctantly. “Sorry, Ms.”

He returned to his PADD.

< _better go, being watched now :O_

_> That would be a wise decision. _

They didn’t speak for the rest of the class, but they did share a knowing glance when they left the PADD conversation.

Jim actually really liked this guy.

 _Didn’t see this coming,_ he thought to himself as he and Spock left the building side by side, discussing the mechanics of their hypothetical wormhole-travelling starship, the USS _Awesome._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, I love to hear your thoughts! Please leave kudos! :)


	5. The Day of the Lords (Joy Division)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim discovers a troubling side to Spock's life and Spock really, really wishes he hadn't.

Spock hoped that if he got to the diner early, Jim wouldn’t notice. 

Spock was Vulcan and had superior strength, so as far as they were concerned he was harder to wound, too. This wasn’t necessarily the case, but that never held them back. They never held back.

Finnegan and his crew liked to find any opportunity to cause trouble, and Finnegan himself was clearly not entirely mentally stable. They didn’t beat Spock up because he was an alien; this wasn’t a matter of xenophobia. It was the fact that Spock let them. 

He would walk away if he could, and sometimes he did, but other times he couldn’t defend himself without badly hurting one of his attackers. And violence was not the Vulcan way. 

Of course, on Vulcan no one physically bullied anyone else, so there was no need for them to defend themselves. At least, no one was physically bullied on Vulcan, except those who weren’t Vulcan. 

It seemed that Spock could not escape it. And he could not stop it without going against his father’s- his beliefs.

Luckily the diner was a five-minute walk from the school. He could anticipate Jim there and clean himself up in the bathroom before he arrived. He bowed his head to hide his face from the dispersing flock of students, walking swiftly down the side-walk. His feet kicked fallen leaves as he went, hands tightly clasped behind his back. His jaw was throbbing angrily and he could feel a nose-bleed coming on but he told himself that it was an illusion, that if he could isolate the pain he could eliminate it. He wouldn’t let those thugs degrade him. 

They always did it after school. No one really knew or cared that it was happening. When he arrived the next day, his wounds would already have healed, so no one ever asked. No one except his mother and father. 

The first time he had come home from IHS with cuts and bruises, his mother had frozen on the spot as Spock walked swiftly past with his head ducked down, just as he was walking now, but had somehow captured and engulfed Spock in an embrace, practically suffocating him, before he could escape. He hadn’t responded. He’d sensed that she wanted to cry, but didn’t want to in front of him.

He hurried into the diner and immediately went for the bathroom. Thankfully it was empty, and it looked like he’d got there just in time because a nose-bleed was beginning to kick in. He lunged towards the sink and hung his head over it, watching the drops of green plip plip plip in front of him. He breathed through his mouth and listened to his deep, even breaths. It made him feel more relaxed somehow. The repetitive rhythm calmed him down. His hands, which had been gripping the sink, relaxed and slid along the rim, his head ducking further down. The blood was stopping now. He sighed.

How humiliating.

He’d really hoped the bullying would stop when he came to Earth. Things were better here, but they still weren’t ideal. It seemed that he belonged on neither of his home planets. 

Spock heard the door open. The interruption was appreciated, since Spock found that thinking too much on this subject made him melancholy. He filled his cupped hands with water and splashed his face. 

“Oh, hey Spock, I was just-” Spock’s head spun towards Jim, naturally revealing the effects of Finnegan’s fist. Why did it have to be Jim who walked in just now? He was surveying his face with concern, his surprise evident by the drop of his jaw. 

He reigned in his embarrassment and splashed some more water over his face. 

“What happened?”

“I do not wish to talk about it.”

Jim was uncharacteristically quiet. Spock stood up straight and examined his face in the mirror for the first time since it had happened. He’d had a lot worse. There was a large green bruise appearing on his jaw, right beneath his ear. The rest of his face looked fine, since he’d washed all the blood away. Jim’s reflection looked at him, and he looked back. It seemed that in that moment as they looked at each other, Jim understood. 

“Wanna get a soda?”

Spock looked back at his reflection. He wasn’t really sure what he was looking at. 

“Yes,” he replied finally, following Jim out of the bathroom door. 

Jim found a booth by the window, and they took out their things. They’d had two work sessions together already. It had started off rather rocky, since their opinions varied quite drastically, but they had somehow managed to apply both of their work methods to the project and came to an overall agreement on how to approach it. However, Spock didn’t doubt that they’d meet more disagreement along the line. It also helped that they both had an (almost) equal understanding of the subject and came up with the same answers much of the time. In fact, Spock found Kirk’s instinctive, practical approach to Physics rather enlightening. 

Spock was thankful that Jim did not bring up the subject or their recent encounter as they took out their books and PADDs. They had begun working, jotting down equations (and the occasional doodle from Jim’s side of the table) when they were interrupted by the arrival of their drinks. Jim took a deep gulp of his coke float through the straw. Spock watched the surface level drop. The concept of having a scoop of ice-cream in a glass of soda puzzled him. Then again, many things puzzled him about human behaviour. 

He sipped from his grapefruit juice. It was very sour- which suited his Vulcan taste buds- but it also burned the inside of his cheek, which didn’t usually happen. He must have bitten it when he received the blow to the jaw. He pouted, trying not to think about it.

“Really?”

Spock looked up from his glass. “I… do not understand,” he said.

Jim’s eyes flitted from Spock’s drink and up to his face twice before he spoke. “Ever tried a coca-cola, Spock?” He smiled at him and leaned back in his seat, dropping his pen on the table. “It’s good.”

Spock sat up a little straighter. “I have never tried it, no. Vulcans do not drink soda.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “You say that a lot. ‘Vulcans do not do this, Vulcans cannot do that.’” Spock responded with a reprimanding head tilt. “And I respect that, honestly, I do. Each to their own. Especially if that’s how you’ve been brought up by two Vulcan parents. I guess I’ve just never seen life that way, is all. I’m just getting my head around it.”

Spock looked down at his juice. It didn’t seem as appealing now, for some reason. 

“I do not have two Vulcan parents.”

Jim looked up at him with raised eyebrows. He was sipping at the straw while the glass was still on the table. He paused, making a ridiculous pouting face with the straw still in his mouth. Eventually he sat up. “What?”

“I do not have two Vulcan parents,” Spock repeated, in exactly the same intonation and tone of voice.

He seemed dumbfounded. Spock never thought he would see him wearing such an expression; he was usually so eloquent and witty. He found his confusion almost endearing. 

Then he nodded. Spock wasn’t sure what that meant. 

“Try the coca-cola.”

Spock tried not to show too much, but he could tell he looked a little pained by the idea. 

“Come on,” Jim leaned forward in his seat, eyes shining. “Life’s about taking risks.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “That is not what I was taught, Jim.”

He laughed in that exuberant, arrogant way that made Spock frown and want to sigh loudly. It didn’t make him angry like it had at first, though. 

He sighed and pushed the drink towards him. “So?”

Spock looked at him with his most threatening stare, and Jim stared back, apparently unmoved. Spock blinked first, pouting a little and going to fetch another straw. Jim chuckled, leaning back and crossing his legs under the table.

When Spock returned, he gingerly dropped the straw in the glass and looked at Jim again pleadingly. 

“Hey, I never said you had to. I just think it’s important to try something different every now and then.”

Spock considered this, pinching the straw between his thumb and index finger. He had never lived by this philosophy before; tradition was the Vulcan way. But he was also half human. And life only progressed by taking chances, making changes and pushing the boundaries. Spock tried to stay in his comfort zone as much as possible, but now, now he felt it was safe to admit that it hadn’t made him particularly happy. Maybe he did need to try something different, even if he didn’t like it first try. 

He took a tentative sip. He was right. He didn’t like it.

Jim smiled. “Well?”

Spock cleared his throat, trying to find the right words.

Jim laughed. “Hate it that much, huh?”

Spock tilted his head. “How did you know that I disliked it?”

“Well, you haven’t been that speechless since you first met me,” he said, taking back his drink and taking a big gulp. 

That was indeed a strange thing, Spock thought. He was never speechless. But when he was with Jim, he said nothing when he most wanted to speak, and spoke when he had no idea he’d had the intention to. He brought something natural but awkward out of him. 

It was very puzzling.

Spock looked at his grapefruit juice again. He may not have liked the coca-cola but he was glad that he’d tried it. He imagined Jim Kirk would push him a lot further beyond his comfort zone as their friendship progressed; and he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. 

“So,” Jim began. Spock felt that they wouldn’t get much work done today. “You’re half Vulcan, half…?”

“Human.”

“Thought so, just checkin’,” Jim nodded. His light-hearted smile and casual mannerisms had disappeared. He leaned on his elbows, looking at Spock. Why did he look at him like that? Like he was assessing him, trying to figure him out? Well, he would have a lot difficulty, since Vulcans- even half breed Vulcans- never lost control, Spock thought. Jim would find no hint of emotion in his face. He would never see what he was feeling. He would never figure him out.

That is, if he felt anything at all. These days, however, he sensed his emotions emerging beyond his Vulcan defences. 

Jim Kirk made him feel a lot, and he wasn’t entirely sure if it was positive or negative. Probably a mixture of both- mostly the latter.

“Spock,” Jim said. His voice was stern. Spock was surprised by this and looked at Jim, this time assessing him. He appeared rather serious too. His gaze drifted towards the bruise on Spock’s jaw. Spock looked away, making sure to seem unfazed by the imminent change of subject. “Can I do anything?”

When Spock looked back at Jim, he recoiled slightly, shocked by how cold Spock’s expression was, how angry his eyes were. This was the first time Spock had seen Jim react to him in this way, as many humans did; he did not know what his eyes were really saying. He never knew what he let slip. He tried so hard to let anything slip.

Jim looked away, seeming rather dejected. He blinked. “You don’t have to believe me, but when I say I that get it, I mean it. You don’t have to tell me anything.” He sighed, rubbing his hand over mouth. He fidgeted like this for a few moments. Spock watched. The way humans masked vulnerability with such restless mannerisms was quite fascinating. He then wondered what Jim Kirk could possibly be hiding. “I get it,” he mumbled. Spock thought perhaps that was all he’d manage to say, but he continued. “You just know that you have a whole bunch of people who’d kick their sorry asses if they knew. Me included.”

Spock stared at him. Where was this coming from? His jaw was tight and he drummed his fingers on the table.

“Just… if you’re not gonna let anyone help, help yourself. Just-”

“Jim, stop.”

Jim’s eyes were furious and sincere and they frightened Spock, but he stood his ground. He was not prepared to be pitied. 

Jim stared out of the window of the diner, not really looking. He was irregularly still. “You can’t let them treat you like this. You need to do something.”

Spock spoke before he remembered that his plan was to keep quiet. “There is no other option.”

“There is always another option,” he leaned across the table, Spock remained exactly where he was, “there is always something else you can do- ‘there is no other option’? Spock-” he leaned all the way back in his seat again, still looking directly at him, eyes burning, “-Spock, you sound like a computer. Spock, you are not a computer.” 

Spock held back from pointing out that he was indeed not a computer. He knew what Jim was trying to say. He wasn’t sure if he liked it.

His eyes were pleading and he couldn’t look at them. He looked down at his grapefruit juice again. He pushed it away. 

“Do something, Spock.”

Why did he care so much? What were his intentions? It seemed as if he were trying to provoke him. He was loosing his patience. No matter how hard Jim tried he would find no way around his defences.

“It is not so simple.”

“Not so-? Nothing’s simple, but you still gotta try. Go to the principal.”

Jim did not recoil from Spock’s condescending look this time.

“Fine. Then fight back.”

“We have spoken enough on the matter Jim,” Spock said evenly.

“Fight back.”

“I will not repeat myself.”

“We can’t just ignore that there’s a problem here, Spock. Like I said, you don’t have to tell my anything, but you need to do something.”

“There is no problem.”

His stare was furious, inexplicable. He took a deep, measured breath. “Fine.”

If he were truly a friend, surely he would not try to meddle in his affairs so presumptuously. There was no problem. Spock did not need help. Finnegan and his friends barely occupied his thoughts. He did not care.

Jim was shaking his head again. His arms were crossed in front of his chest. He stared out of the window like he wanted to break it. Spock silently fumed, looking at the empty patch of table in front of him. 

“Fight back, Spock. Please.”

“I am Vulcan,” Spock said evenly. He betrayed no emotion this time. “We do not use violence.”

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel angry that this is happening to you?”

“We do not feel anger.”

“Bullshit,” Jim’s head snapped towards him again. “I may not know Vulcans all that well but there is no way you don’t feel anything, you’ve just conditioned yourself to ignore it.”

“I feel nothing.”

Jim shook his head, making a noise that was almost a laugh, a sharp exhalation that conveyed no amusement whatsoever. “Yes you do. At least your human half does.”

Spock looked back, speaking clearly and candidly. “I feel nothing.”

Their gaze did not part for some time. Jim eventually looked away, crossing his arms on the table and leaning forward. 

“Fine.”

Spock hoped he had finally given up, and that he would be left in peace. 

“But I am angry. I’m as human as they get, and I’m pissed. So I’ll do something.”

That was the last thing Spock wanted.

“You’re persistence in involving yourself in my private life is quite astounding,” Spock said pointedly.

“You’re my friend and I want to help you.”

Jim tried to take his hand. Spock moved it away. He stood up.

“Please stop making my personal affairs your business. I will see you tomorrow at school.”

And so his defence mechanisms were in full working order again.


	6. The Headmaster Ritual (The Smiths)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Spock get into a brawl...

No one had spoken for at least a minute 

Principal Pike sat behind his desk. Jim had seen this view quite a few times before, but this time there was a heavier sense of guilt than before. Maybe because he actually liked this school, and owed Captain Pike _big_ time for even getting him in. And he’d already screwed up.

He laced his hands together on the desk, looking from him to Spock, back to him again.

“You boys wanna tell me what happened?”

Jim was looking at Pike, but he could feel Spock staring at him. He guessed that since he had been the one who’d started all of this, it wouldn’t exactly be fair to make Spock talk about it-

“It was an act of self-defence, on both mine and Jim’s part. I will accept whatever punishment you see fit, however I cannot speak for Jim.” Spock assuredly returned Pike’s even stare. Jim wasn’t expecting him to talk, but now he had, he was kinda glad. He made the whole thing sound so reasonable.

“Looks like both sides got in a couple of hits,” Pike stated, indicating at Jim’s nice black-eye.

He hated to disappoint him. He really liked Pike. Jim sighed.

“Well, it went sorta like this…”

 

 

_One hour earlier…_

 

It was a couple of days after their meet up in the diner, after Jim had run into Spock in the bathroom, washing away the evidence of green blood from his face.

That moment had _really_ freaked him out.

For some reason, Jim had imagined Spock as this stoic, practically emotionless hero, who never hurt anyone and in return nobody hurt him. A sort of lone wolf, so to speak, just going through life without rustling any feathers- and Jim totally respected that. In fact, he was jealous of it. He was the total opposite- he wore his heart on his sleeve and got himself into situations which were ridiculous and dangerous and rustled _plenty_ feathers. It wasn’t a very calm lifestyle. But Spock just seemed to have everything so under control. He definitely gave off the don’t-fuck-with-me vibe, which helped. It never occurred to Jim that someone would even dare to try.

It also hadn’t occurred to him that Spock might actually be a pretty emotional guy, but just had to try really hard to conceal it. He suspected that he had feelings, of course, but he still figured it was completely under wraps, barely felt. Until he saw his face that day, that is, his horrified expression when he’d spun round at the sound of Jim’s voice, his eyes widening momentarily, jaw tightening in panic, his hand tightening on the sink so his knuckles turned white and Jim was almost certain that he’d tear it off the wall.

That was really, really scary.

And now he was kicking himself for thinking Spock would be any other way. Right from the start, he believed that Vulcans weren’t emotionless, they just chose not to show it. But now he knew that his mom was Human, everything seemed to sort of click into place. It explained those little eyebrow ticks, the pouts, the warmth in his eyes that told Jim that he was smiling, though he’d never admit it. The fact that he seemed to enjoy Jim’s company was a pretty big indicator too, that there was some sort of emotion going on in there- no self respecting Vulcan would choose to hang out with him, unless they had some sort of emotional attachment to him.

Which, he wasn’t saying Spock had, but, you know.

Bullied on Vulcan, bullied on Earth. Never belonging anywhere. It made Jim uncomfortable just thinking about how miserable that would be. Maybe because he didn’t have to imagine that hard.

It was just- it was still weird to him, though. Someone taking advantage of Spock and beating him up. I mean, Jim wasn’t the type to back off from a challenge, but even he wouldn’t get up in Spock’s grill if he could avoid it. Then again, this was Finnegan, and he was just _out_ of it _._

He wasn’t sure when he’d started idolising Spock like this, like he was untouchable.

He knew he had to do something. He knew that the moments after Spock’s last classes of the day were when Finnegan’s gang would most likely corner him, in particular on the days when Spock’s final classes didn’t have any of his friends in them, so he’d leave the building alone. So, Jim resolved that he would catch him first.

He bolted from English class, darting round Bones who was trying to get his attention, hopping through the crowd of pupils to the other side of the campus, where Spock’s lesson was currently ending. If he could find him, catch up with him, he could get to him before Finnegan did. And when Finnegan did find him, he’d have hell to pay.

Except he was pushing against the flow of the crowd, everyone was trying to get home, and the corridors were _seriously_ busy. So it took a lot longer than he wanted. By this point, he thought as he skilfully caught and returned a book he’d accidentally knocked out of a boy’s hands in his hurry, Spock would have left the building already. Although, if he knew him at all, he’d be waiting for the crowd to subside.

But now it was already thinning, and by the time he’d reached Spock’s classroom, no one was there apart from the teacher and a few students waiting to ask questions.

 _“Shit,”_ he muttered, twisting on the spot, deciding what to do next. He pursed his lips and took a measured sigh.

He’d have to just find him, then.

He started jogging towards the exit, and now that the corridors were practically clear it was easy, his sneakers squeaking on the linoleum floor as he ran.

When and why he’d started running after this kid, he did not know. Hey, at least it gave some structure to his life.

The image of Spock’s horror when he’d found him the other day kept his mind focused so the sounds of his footfalls eventually faded. The idea of him coming face to face with these bullies again, _without doing a thing…_

 _Nobody_ fucked with Spock.

He pushed open the doors into the schoolyard. Now what? Where would they go that would be quiet and secluded, where they could easily drag Spock around a corner and do what they wanted without them seeing?

Jim winced through the sunlight- unusual for San Francisco- and scanned the schoolyard quickly and calmly. There were still plenty of people around, people waiting for their parents to pick them up, people having chats before they left for home, little clusters and dribbles of people wandering towards the exit. Not as busy as it usually was, though, since on Wednesday and Friday afternoons the after school clubs weren’t going on-

 _Maybe_ …

Perhaps that was it. The mechanics club. It was held in a little sort of garage, connected to the technology annex of the school. The club wasn’t going on right now, but it was right next to the school’s entrance, so it was quiet, hidden, easily-

That’s when he spotted him. The stream of people flowing around him seemed to slow down and become muffled, his feet fixed to the ground, as he saw Spock leave the school building. He must have stayed behind or gone somewhere else before he left, because he was only just leaving now and he was powerwalking his way towards him, head ducked down as if he hadn’t seen him yet.

“Spock!”

He wasn’t the only one who’d called his name. That tinny, Irish voice cut over his like an intrusive wake up alarm, but it made Jim’s skin crawl. Finnegan was an ass-hole, but he wasn’t evil. And yet, unlike some of the people Jim’d met, he seemed to make him angrier than most of them.

Spock looked at Jim first. It wasn’t an expression he’d seen on Spock before, at least not directed at him; even from the beginning, Spock never used his proper poker face with him. Probably because he pissed him off so much he couldn’t hide it. But now, his expression was blank and bereft of anything and it made Jim even more frightened than that day in the diner. His pace slowed and he stopped, his gaze fell to the ground.

Finnegan’s crew caught him just beside the entrance. Spock could argue. He could walk through them and keep going, but he didn’t even try. Why didn’t he try? Perhaps he didn’t have much choice without creating a scene. He just stood there, feet now planted to the ground only a couple of metres away from the school entrance, three of Finnegan’s friends surrounding him, trapping him, except in a way that no one recognised. No one stopped and looked because it didn’t look threatening. It just looked like they were standing near Spock, rather than around him.

They’d been standing by the entrance the whole time, but they were so close to the doorway and camouflaged in the crowd that Jim had run straight past them in his hurry to find Spock.

 _Stupid,_ he thought.

He’d heard Finnegan’s voice, but he couldn’t see him- ah, there he was. Leaning against the wall of the tech annex, hands in his pockets, looking all casual like he wasn’t about to beat up some innocent guy for no reason other than he was different and easy prey.

Well, he could try, but he’d have to go through Jim first.

Spock was being herded towards Finnegan. Why wasn’t he doing anything? He so often retorted to Jim’s stupid comments, debated with him when he disagreed, he stood up for himself in every other way- why this? Why did he let this happen? Because he wasn’t allowed to fight back? It seemed so wrong, watching him willingly walk with them, that Jim’s feet started moving of their own accord and his voice made itself known before he couldn’t think about it.

“Hey!”

And that was it. That was the moment Jim knew he’d hit the moment of no return, charging-slash-sauntering (in that special way that he did) towards them- well, towards Spock, really. The point where he knew he would only start caring more for this strange, enigma of a half Vulcan, and there was no going back. Spock’s rigid shoulders seemed to become even more rigid, his gaze hard as it turned towards Jim, looking him straight on, betraying nothing.

Finnegan took the bait. Turned out that he was just as bad at being subtle as he was in these sorts of situations. People were already slowing down to see what was happening- not that Jim noticed- as he power walked towards Finnegan, who was sauntering towards him in return. Finnegan grabbed Spock by the shoulder- it was the sort of gesture that Jim made when he was being affectionate, but he knew in this situation, Finnegan was being territorial. _Get away from my prey._

“Don’t touch him,” he said. Now _he_ was beginning to sound territorial. He looked at Spock, who’s poker face was only marginally slipping, those dark eyes betraying a spark of anger.

“And why’s that? Is he reserved?”

Apparently Finnegan had picked up on Jim’s possessive tone of voice too. Now he had fodder for more mockery and teasing. Well, Jim had said it already, nothing he could do about it now- he’d just have to take the control back. He took a step forward.

“Get away from him.”

“Or what? You going to show me what you promised, before Principal Pike interrupted our little moment?” He leered, giggling to himself, eyes wide. He took his hand away from Spock’s shoulder, leaving him to his little gang and approached Jim, trying to meet his height but failing. Jim used this to his advantage, looking down at him, but something told him that Finnegan wasn’t the type to be intimidated easily. The boy’s eyes were brown, but not warm. That frighteningly primitive smile spread across his face, and he was so close that Jim could hear his breath hissing through his grin.

“Maybe.”

The rest of his gang seemed bored, like they didn’t really want to be there. Perhaps they’d gotten tired of Finnegan’s little games by this point. Spock had apparently noticed this too, as he looked from one of them to the other. Jim only looked at him for a moment, but he could see him doing the mental math. He smiled inwardly.

“Aw, bless. I get the impression that you’re defending your boy’s honour,” he shouted, close enough to his face that Jim’s jaw tightened in reaction. This guy was really fucking annoying.

“Spock can look after himself.” He knew Spock would appreciate that, even though he kind of was here to defend him, but you know. “I’m here for my own reasons. I don’t like you messing with my friends.”

People were starting to stop now, a crowd gathering behind them. Jim had his back to them, and he intended to keep it that way. He didn’t want to get distracted from his aim; scare the shit out of these guys so they don’t come near Spock again.

Speaking of which- he didn’t look like himself. To anyone else, his expression was emotionless, but Jim saw him staring at him, eyes large and bright, jaw set, his chest rising and falling faster than usual.

Spock could get pissed with him all he wanted later. For now, Jim needed to teach these guys a lesson.

“Oh.” It was all Finnegan said at first, as he looked away with false remorse, shaking his head and tutting. “So that means that, if I ask my mates to do this-” 

Finnegan gave them a wave of the hand, and with equal lack lustre two of them took one of Spock’s arms each, restraining him even though he wasn’t moving. In fact- Jim tried not to tear his gaze away from Finnegan’s for too long, but he couldn’t help just glancing over- Spock was motionless. He was frozen. He wasn’t even blinking. And that set of warning bells in Jim’s head.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” He said it because he was prepared to fight them if they didn’t back off. But he was also kind of worried that Spock was about to crack. He’d wanted him to react to Finnegan’s taunts, at first, but now he wasn’t so sure. The way he stood there, eyes fixed on one spot, everything in his body so tightly wound that he wasn’t moving- it was like watching a predator about to pounce.

It was terrifying.

Jim was certain people were watching now. He could feel them behind him; no one was making a sound.

Finnegan bent his head so he could see around Kirk’s body. “Hmm. Looks like we’ve gathered quite an audience.” His smirk somehow grew. It was grotesque. “Let’s give them something to watch, shall we?”

At that moment, Finnegan ducked out of the way, back against the wall of the tech building. Jim didn’t bother to follow him, because he knew what was coming next. One of the gang- there were 7 of them, he’d counted whilst he was keeping Finnegan preoccupied- stepped towards Spock. Spock’s frozen glare moved up the face of the Andorian girl who’d approached him, but she didn’t back off. How could she not back off?

That glare said more about Spock than Jim thought he’d ever know. If Finnegan’s grin was some primitive, ape-like warning to back off, Spock’s entire aura was something even more terrifying. Because it wasn’t human. It was almost feline. It was beautiful and silent and deadly. His shoulders were tight, his body like a wound up spring, his breathing had slowed, and everything about him screamed _you’d better run._ It made _Jim_ want to run. There was some visceral, atavistic instinct in his stomach, translating to his feet that told him he shouldn’t be anywhere near something like this. The worst part was his eyes- there was something in his eyes that revealed years of pent up energy that was just _begging_ to be released, sparkling dangerously, tempting the Andorian in front of him- _go on, go on, do it. I dare you to try._

It made Jim want to sprint. Hide. And yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away, there was something about it that pulled him in.

He only just snapped out of it in time, in time to stop the Andorian punch by grabbing her by the wrist.

She twisted her way out of his grip, bending underneath his arm and loosening his hold, and time seemed to speed up again. Maybe it was just Jim’s focus, because he knew that people were watching and most likely talking, but it seemed like everything was silent as Jim assumed a steady stance, the other girl crouching opposite him, ready to go. Spock frozen. Everyone, frozen. The calm before the storm.

Jim felt like he was ready to take this Andorian on, but now two more of Finnegan’s gang was surrounding him and he wasn’t so sure. He was good in a fight, sure, but too many times he’d picked his battles when he was outnumbered and they _never_ ended well. He couldn’t afford for that to happen this time, but as it was he was surrounded by three of them. He spun on the spot, surveying the two newcomers with raised eyebrows and a cocky smile, for extra measure. As much as he felt kind of screwed right now, with Spock held back and three of Finnegan’s rather beefy gang cornering him, he was a sucker for putting on a confident façade. That was until one of them grabbed him from behind, arms wrapped around his chest and arms.

That was when it started to kick off.

He could hear people shouting now, and he could see them too now that he didn’t have his back turned to them, but he didn’t really register it since he had a 6 foot 7 guy restraining him and two more rather threatening characters cracking their knuckles in front of him, Spock standing silently somewhere behind him. But he didn’t want to get off on a bad start, so he stamped on the guy’s toe, elbowed him in the ribs when he loosened his grip from the pain and flipped him over his head with his hips. One down.

The spectators were getting really excited now- Jim was pretty proud of that move, he had to admit- as the Andorian and the other guy slightly more tentatively approached him with fists up. But- wait-

At some point during the time Jim had taken to flip that guy over and onto the ground- where he was rather satisfyingly groaning on his stomach- Spock had done something too.

The two who had been restraining him were on the floor. On their backs, slowly propping themselves up and looking rather dazed.

And Spock was crouched between them, hands spread out on the ground like he was steadying himself, like he was at the starting line for a race. His head snapped up towards him. The look in his eyes was almost feral, and if possible, scarier than before.

And Jim shouldn’t have been looking, because the Andorian took the opportunity to throw her punch. It hit him. Right on the cheek-bone.

Jim wasn’t expecting it and stumbled back, saw the other taller guy coming in to knock him down but elbowed him square in the jaw, kicking him backwards. So since Spock had taken out the two holding him back, the only ones who weren’t peeling themselves off the ground were two who had just been watching, the Andorian and Finnegan, who was just standing at the edge, viewing the whole thing with a weirdly apathetic look about him.

And now Spock was suddenly by his side before they could be surrounded again, except he wasn’t just standing next to him, he was almost standing in front of him; his shoulder came out in front of Jim’s, a protective hand holding him back when the remaining three of Finnegan’s guys approached them. What was he holding _him_ back for? He’d come here to fight for _him_ , the idiot, not the other way around. He could hear the crowd properly now, could see them in his peripheral vision, they were whooping and whistling clapping in time to egg them on. Normal for a school yard fight, but this felt like so much more than any other Jim had wound himself up in.

He’d take a swing at them, if he could, but Spock was still holding him back, and Jim couldn’t argue with him because that look was still in his eyes and it was still terrifying. He didn’t want to test this sudden overprotective, territorial side to Spock. Probably not clever.

He was glad for a moment that Bones wasn’t here. He’d have an absolute _field_ day with this _whole_ situation. 

There wasn’t much time to think on how much Bones would kill him tomorrow when he found out what happened, because one of them- they were clearly _out of their mind-_ decided to go for Spock, and Spock was just having _none of it._ Jim didn’t have time to appreciate how cool it really was, but what he saw was pretty amazing- Spock dodged the guy’s punch like he was watching it in slow motion, swiping his foot underneath his opponent’s and pushing him down by the shoulder with such force that he hit the ground with a _thwack_ on his back _,_ and he just sort of lay there, eyes wide open, winded for probably a solid ten seconds. Meanwhile, the Andorian literally _jumped_ onto Jim and he landed on his back while she tried to land another punch but he dodged his head in time, her hand hitting the concrete so hard that she yelped, so he took the opportunity to flip her over and wriggle away. He hadn’t forgotten about the other one, who was just about to plant his foot firmly into his stomach when all of a sudden he just dropped to the floor.

Had Spock literally _just pinched his neck_? And he just _collapsed_?

Apparently Spock didn’t want to explain, which was fair enough, since there were probably around fifty people watching them walk away from the fight. Neither of them said anything to each other; they both knew that this should end now.

“You think that’s it, then, do you?”

Finnegan. Of course the stubborn ass-hole wasn’t finished.

“You think that’s all it takes to stop me from playing with your friend?”

Spock was practically power walking, his shoulders so taut it looked like they were going to snap, his jaw twitching, his eyes steely, his hands clenched and white. Just as they were just about to make their way through the crowd and leave this whole thing behind them, Finnegan grabbed Jim by the shoulder.

They both froze on the spot, and everything went very quiet.

“You think that’s all it takes? You’ve only proven that you’re more interesting than I took you for, Jimmy boy. It doesn’t end here.”

Jim knew he should keep walking but he was just _so bad_ at turning down a challenge.

“Step away from him.”

It was Spock. Had Finnegan forgotten he was there? But how could he, after all that crazy shit Spock just pulled out of nowhere? Jim hadn’t been looking at his face when Finnegan had stopped him, but now he turned to look, and he was directing that hideous leer at Spock now, who was standing like a brick wall in front of him. Jim wanted to grab his arm and pull him back, take him away from here because it wasn’t worth it, Finnegan just wasn’t worth any of this in the end and it would be best if they just get the hell out of there, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch him, not when he could feel _danger_ emanating from the Vulcan like crackles of electricity in the air.

“Spock-”

“I strongly recommend that you cease your threats and your violent behaviour towards us.”

Finnegan laughed. “Or what?” He leaned further into Spock’s space, and Jim swore this man was insane if he thought he was getting out of this alive because Spock was too quiet and too still. “You’ll run and get your little friends to help you out? Well it’s no use, Vulcan. Because one day, your little Jimmy here will realise you’re not worth it. _”_

“Step back.” 

“Spock, don’t-” 

“They’ll realise they don’t want you anymore. And you’ll finally see that you’re just _lonely,_ and _pathetic,_ and _you don’t belong here.”_

It happened so quickly that Jim couldn’t hold him back. Spock had hit him and Finnegan had fallen to the floor and now Spock was on his hands and knees, punching him over and over and over, and Jim could see blood and-

“Spock! Spock stop!”

He didn’t know how he’d got there, but now he was kneeling beside Spock and holding back his arm. He knew Spock was strong enough to tear his arm away but he held it there, he let Jim hold him back and his arm was shaking, and his knuckles were bleeding and Finnegan was panting and his mouth dripping blood, not looking as half dead as he should have been considering how much Spock had just been punching him. Unless Spock had been holding back. 

Jim looked back up at Spock. That expression of frozen thunder was only there for a second longer, before it melted and he understood what he’d done, his mouth falling slack and his eyes widening, his fist relaxing and his whole body shaking. He scrambled away from Finnegan and it took Jim a moment or two to remember to follow as he watched Spock fall back and shake, looking at his trembling hands like they could give him the answers to what he’d just done.

“Spock, Spock, it’s OK, Spock, look at me-” 

He didn’t at first, but when he did there was so much fear in his eyes that Jim lost what he was about to say. He wanted to hold him, but he knew that was probably the most dangerous thing he could do right now. 

“It’s gonna be OK, all of this was just self-defence, alright?” He sounded so calm but in reality he was panicking. He’d made Spock act like this. He’d just wandered in and decided to ‘fix’ things and now Spock’s hands were covered in Finnegan’s blood and he was freaking out in front of a whole crowd of people. Everyone watched in silent amazement. Some left, out of decency. 

“This isn’t your fault, this isn’t anyone’s fault but theirs, _they_ were the ones who provoked us, and if we hadn’t reacted we’d be in a much worse state right now. Besides, we’d have only delayed this for another day. Something had to snap at some point.”

“You were trying to warn me,” he whispered. “You were trying to warn me to not be provoked by his words, but I did not listen.” 

“With good reason, Spock, he said some nasty stuff just now. There are things he could’ve and would’ve said to me that would have made me snap, too. You didn’t react any differently than I would’ve.”

Spock was relaxing, he could tell his tactic of giving him a list of logic was working. And thankfully, people were disappearing now, because the fight was over and the two of them were speaking so quietly no one could hear. Jim knew Spock would recover more quickly if he had some privacy. His eyes weren’t cold anymore. His shoulders were still tense, but the angles of his body seemed to soften again, though he was still shaking pretty badly. His hands were gripping his knees, his legs now crossed in front of him. His gaze flickered away from Jim’s. 

“Nevertheless, I will try to avoid acting like you in the future.”

He said it with a slightly weaker voice than usual, but Jim could tell he was joking and he laughed. Spock blinked in recognition that Jim understood his joke.

“Hey, I’m not all that bad. And, you know, I bet even Uhura would’ve snapped too. Hell, if she were here, those guys would’ve been on their backs before we could even say _Qapla’_.”

Spock looked back at him. “It would be impossible for anyone to- 

“Yes, I know Spock, it’s- its just a figure of speech- 

“What the _hell_ is going on out here?”

And that was when Principal Pike found them in the school yard- Finnegan lying dazed on his back, his seven friends crawling away like wounded animals and Jim, talking down a catatonic Vulcan.

 

 

 

“… and that’s just about when you arrived, sir.”

The room felt heavy, and Pike’s eyes were still trained on him. As if he need Pike staring him down right now; he already felt guilty enough. He got the distinct impression that his presence just messed up Spock’s whole life. 

He shouldn’t have done anything.

Then again, if he had to… he’d do it all over again.

“Two against eight. You know that was a pretty dumb move, don’t you?”

“We didn’t have much choice, sir.”

Pike’s expression had been all business until now, when it softened a little. “I believe you. But you understand, considering your past, Kirk, this was a dangerous stunt.”

“It wasn’t a stunt-”

“Sir, Jim acted out of selflessness and-”

Pike he’d up his hands and they fell into silence. “Ok, I get it, thank you.” He sighed. “I understand that Finnegan was out of order. But you also have to understand that I can’t let you go unpunished. I’ll see in you both in detention tomorrow afternoon.”

“ _Sir-"  
_

“Principal Pike-" 

“Shut up, both of you.” They both fell quiet again. “You might have been acting in self defence but you have to admit, you both have some attitude problems."

Spock opened his mouth for a come back but nothing came. He looked a little horrified by Pike’s accusation. Jim on the other hand had heard it all before too many times. He respected Pike, though, so he kept quiet, for now.

“You know why you’re here, you know why I’m not suspending you. Let’s leave it at that and hope it never happens again. If it does, you know I won’t be able to turn a blind eye. You both just go home and-” A message beeped at his PADD. He looked down at it for a moment. “Spock, you’re father is here.” 

Spock sat up in his seat and instantly tensed up. 

_Oh, shit._

“I’m going to go update him. Can I trust you two stay here without breaking anything?”

Jim knew it was a joke, but he nodded seriously anyway. Spock’s dad was outside. Crap. He was the Vulcan one of his parents, he remembered. How the hell was he going to react to this?

Pike left the room and the door clicked shut. Neither of them spoke for a moment.

“Spock, I’m sorry I got you into this mess.”

He turned to him with a puzzled frown. “It is like you said before; neither of us are at fault.”

“I know, but…” he didn’t know where he was going with this. He knew if he hadn’t come then Spock would never have defended himself. And yet…

“Without your interference, I would be in a far worse position. At least now, it is safe to assume that we have frightened Finnegan into submission.”

“Yeah,” his mouth twitched into a smile, but it wasn’t real. Seeing Spock loose his cool like that was terrifying, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to forget the image. And his hands were still shaking. “Can’t know for sure though.”

“No,” he agreed. “However, this time, I will be prepared.” He swallowed. “I will have more control.” 

Jim looked at him and blinked stupidly. “You don’t regret it?”

Spock took a deep breath, like he was about to sigh, but he stopped himself. “I regret that I lost control and hurt people. I do not regret that I defended myself.”

Jim nodded. That would make him feel like less of a terrible human being, for now. 

“Jim…. Thank you.” 

He sniffed awkwardly, nodding his head. “No problem.” He remembered who Pike was talking to outside and grimaced. “You’re dad’s gonna be pissed, though-”

Right on cue, Pike opened the door. There, in the doorway, stood one of the most intimidating men Jim had ever seen. He had all the Vulcan features like Spock did- the eyebrows, the ears, the terrible hair-cut- and he wore long, dark robes that made him look like a towering pillar. His eyes, they weren’t warm, like Spock’s. Perhaps they could be; right now, though, he was pissed. Or was he? This guy was full Vulcan, and Jim honestly couldn’t tell in his expression- or lack thereof. He could only feel it in the _I’m very disappointed, young man_ vibes coming off of him. 

“Spock.”

He said it like an order, and Spock stood up instantly, hands behind his back and straight posture like a soldier. He wouldn’t meet his father’s gaze as he followed him. 

Jim watched him leave. Spock turned back and looked at him for a moment, before following his father again. The door closed behind them.

Pike sighed. Jim had forgotten he was in the room.

“Jim…”

“I’m sorry, sir. I really meant it when I said I had no choice.”

“And I believe you, Jim. I trust you." 

Jim muffled down the panic that rose inside him when he heard those words. Nobody ever trusted him. Not since Tarsus, when he was the only one anyone _could_ trust.

“There’s no way I was gonna let them keep bullying Spock like that.”

Pike nodded. “You’re a good kid, Jim. Spock needs a friend. Didn’t expect it to be you, though,” he added. “An interesting pair, you two make. He might do you some good, too.”

Jim stared at his lap.

“Stop beating yourself up, kid.” Pike wheeled his chair so that it leveled with Jim’s. He looked up at him for a moment. “You know, when I was writing my dissertation on your father’s ship, there were a couple of punks who thought I was some interesting fresh meat. Your dad didn’t like that. Put them in the medical bay."

There was a painful lump forming at the back of Jim’s throat. He swallowed it down. “Why are you telling me this?”

Pike sighed. “I know you’re not your dad, Jim. You might be reckless and arrogant and clever like him, but you’re still you. You’re dad saved a ship of over 400 people, and I put you here because I bet you could even do better.” 

“And instead I’m beating up kids in the schoolyard.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that for a people like you and your dad, it’s almost impossible to avoid trouble; sooner or later, though, it’s going to make a real difference. _You’re_ going to make a real difference. Until then… just… do it where I can’t see, alright?”

Jim couldn’t believe how lucky he was to still be here. He also couldn’t believe how little he deserved it.

“Yes, sir.”


	7. Atomic (Blondie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim makes some more potentially reckless decisions.

Spock’s father had not been impressed. 

He said nothing on the journey home. Nor did he say anything when they got home. He had spoken to Spock about the matter of violence in the past; he did not think it necessary to repeat himself. Spock knew that what he had done was wrong- so Sarek merely led him inside the house and watched him ascend the stair to his room, his piercing, Vulcan stare never leaving the back of his head as he did. Spock could feel it, although such a thing were illogical. When he reached the top of the stairs, however, Sarek had said one thing.

“I do not think it appropriate that you continue your association with Jim Kirk.”

Spock had only paused momentarily, barely, but enough for a Vulcan to notice. 

“Yes father,” he had replied. He had returned to his room to meditate before working. 

And yet, here he was- sitting on a bench outside the science block of IHS with Jim Kirk and company, two days after the incident.

At first, he had tried to do as his father asked; the day before, he barely spoke to Jim, and Jim seemed equally willing to not speak to him. They had spent detention in silence. However, that evening Jim had sent him a single message on his PADD, which read:

> _I’m still sorry, btw… I know it was kind of awkward today, but are we still friends?_

Spock had responded.  
  
< _I believe it is possible that we are better friends than before, Jim. I will see you tomorrow._

That had been the end of that conversation. And now he was here, with him, acting as if it had never happened.

What made him voluntarily disobey his father’s wishes was beyond Spock’s understanding. Jim was reckless and had put both of them in trouble. Spock’s behaviour had been inexcusable. His father’s concerns were justified. He recalled it with an unpleasant twinge of humiliation and shame.

And yet.

Jim hadn’t put him in that position. His anger was his own. His fist was his own. His desire to punch Finnegan until he bled, until his hands shook with rage was his own. That was his own choice, and he regretted it.

Though not so fully that he would sever all contact with Jim Kirk.

Jim of course had no idea that Spock wasn’t supposed to be with him- which made the situation somehow even worse, even more secretive. How Jim had made him put their friendship before obeying his father… Spock did not know. It frightened him.

“Spock, you must have a favourite _something._ Everyone has a favourite colour, or food at least.” 

Spock had been talking amongst Jim, Christine, Scotty, Nyota and McCoy whilst turning these anxieties over in his mind. Nyota Uhura sat on the wall behind the bench he sat on. Her feet dangled a foot or so away from him. He appreciated the distance. 

“Vulcans do not generally have a ‘favourite’ anything. It is-”

“ _Illogical,_ ” the whole group chorused in unison.

“Yes,” Spock agreed, although a little unsettled by how they had all predicted his words. He was not sure, but he thought that perhaps the way in which they had said this was mocking.

“Ok, let’s try it this way,” Jim said, crossing his arms and bumping his arm against Spock’s. He had noted that Jim was particularly inclined towards doing this, and generally Spock didn’t appreciate it. However he decided to let it pass, this time. “What makes you happy? Or most comfortable, at ease?” 

“That is an incredibly vague question, Jim.”

 “Not really,” Jim shrugged. 

“See it this way,” Christine began, leaning across Jim at the other end of the bench towards Spock. “Let’s start with food. What sort of food reminds you most of home?” 

Spock thought on this. It occurred to him that home wasn’t what put him most at ease, but he would not reveal this fact to so many people he did not know well.

“What’re you expecting to get from him? He’s _Vulcan,_ he doesn’t have romantic notions of home like humans do.”

Spock ignored Bones, as he generally did, and thought on the matter seriously.

“Mashed potatoes,” Scotty declared. “My mum’s mashed potatoes- that's my favourite food. Ach, brings me right back to my childhood.” 

“Fries,” Nyota added, her legs swinging slightly beside Spock’s shoulders. “Come on, Spock. We know hardly anything about you. I mean the whole mysterious thing works well for you, I won’t deny that-” Christine blushed and looked away, for inexplicable reasons, “- but it’d be nice to know something about you, since we’re all hanging out now.” 

This hadn’t occurred to him. Human beings were generally far more open with their emotions and thoughts than Vulcans- he had never asked to learn anything about the group of friends he had accidentally acquired, they had offered that information voluntarily, and most likely subconsciously. Spock, however, was far more reserved in every way- however, it made sense that they should seek some knowledge of their friend in return.

“So long as it isn’t salad, I’ll eat anything,” Jim said. He stretched his legs out in front of him, and Spock noted that the action was strangely captivating, as he arched his back and wriggled his feet to and fro. “And so long as Bones hasn’t made it for me.” 

“I’ll have you know, Jim Kirk, that if I hadn’t fed you something other than instant pot noodles you would be dead of a heart attack by now,” Bones retorted. No one else but Jim and Bones seemed to know when this event had occurred- in fact, no one seemed to know anything else about their friendship. All Spock knew was that they had also been friends before Jim had enrolled in HIS. 

“Eh, I did just _fine,_ ” Kirk grinned, head tilting back and closing his eyes to shield them from the sun. His eyelashes were blonde, in such strong sunlight. His hair had also gained a lighter pigment, since the change in weather.

“Yeah, sure.” 

Christine leaned around to look at Bones with her nose tilted up. “Oh yeah, and what’s favourite food, McCoy- scotch?”

Jim cackled pitilessly at this slight, which Spock would have found strange a few days ago considering that the two boys were friends- however, he’d known them long enough to realise their friendship was incongruous with societal norms. Jim treated Spock very differently.

He wondered if that meant anything in particular. He concluded that it did not. 

“Plomeek soup,” Spock announced. Everyone bent around each other along the bench to look at him- it was comical, as if this movement were a planned and practiced routine. “It is something my mother has made for me since I was very young.”

“Oh- I think I’ve had that,” Nyota mused. “That’s a Vulcan recipe, isn’t it? I’ve tried it in that new vegetarian restaurant down the road.”

“There’s a new vegetarian restaurant?” Jim queried. 

“Like you would know what a vegetable even looks like, you carnivore,” Bones retorted, although Jim’s comment had seemed innocent.

“Have you tried it there, Spock?” Nyota continued, sensibly ignoring Jim and Bones’ bickering. “It’s really good.”

“I have not…” 

“We should _go_ there!” Jim announced happily, sitting up all of a sudden. “All of us,” he said pointedly, glancing at Bones. 

“Vegetarian food? Not really my cup of tea, lad,” Scotty winced. 

“Oh come on, just for one evening, it’ll be fun. Not everyone likes your restaurant choices, you know- you could let other people take a pick now and then,” Jim suggested playfully.

“Aye, well… you never know with vegetarians, do you? Can’t trust ‘em.”

Spock tuned out of the conversation to allow himself to watch his environment. There was group of boys on the bench next to them, playing music which he didn’t recognise from a portable sound system. One of them was throwing an apple at the wall, in what Spock assumed was either a scientific attempt to ascertain the effect of the apple’s impact- being an underwhelming squelch- or, perhaps the boy was just bored. Human beings often showed signs of unusual behaviour like this, which, Spock considered, made it the opposite of unusual. Human beings were usually unusual.

How frustrating, he thought.

Human beings were so strange. There was no other way to put it. When he had first moved to San Francisco, Spock had felt that he was far advanced in intelligence and maturity than the rest of the people at his school. For the most part, of course, this was true. But he had also discovered, that human beings, Tellarians, Orions, and all of the many species which frequented the school were not as foolish as they acted. Human beings especially, however, acted very foolishly, _very_ often. He considered this as he watched the boy continuously launch the now completely brown apple against the wall. Yes, strange was the correct word.

He turned his attention to two people ‘play-fighting’, as Kirk called it, a teacher scolding someone for their skirt being too short, and at the other end of the school-yard there was Finnegan’s gang, sans Finnegan-                                            

-and they were making their way towards them. 

Spock sat up in his seat stiffly. While he had been people watching, apparently the others had begun talking again, because he heard Nyota’s warm laugh suddenly dwindle as she also saw the group approaching them. 

He hadn’t planned what to do in this situation. He hadn’t anticipated them trying to contact him again after he’d attacked Finnegan, let alone after they’d got into trouble with the principle. But there they were, cautiously glancing around them as they walked up to the bench, one of them leading the way and halting in front of Jim, of all people. Spock frowned at this. Had he not been the one to hurt their ring-leader? Why were they now focusing their fierce, frightened glares at Jim?

“Finnegan wants too see you.”

Jim was still lying back in his seat, arms crossed in front of his chest, ankles crossed right in front of their feet. His Nike trainers waved from side to side jauntily.

“I’m sure he does. May I ask why he wants to see me on this particular occasion?”

Bones smacked Jim in the arm as a warning, nonetheless glaring at Finnegan’s gang unreservedly, clearly ignoring his own silent advice.

“He didn’t mention the specifics,” one girl spat, snarling in a ridiculous way that implied that she thought she was being scary, when in actual fact she looked more distressed by an unpleasant smell. Most of these people hadn’t been there on the day that Jim and Spock had been accosted; that would explain their laid back behaviour.

“In that case, I’m gonna have to decline- places to be, people to meet, classes to take, I’m sure you understand, Ms…?" 

She didn’t respond, only scrunched her nose into a tighter, wrinkled ball.

“You know why he wants to see you,” the boy at the front said evenly.

“Yes, I do, you’re right. Then again, it entirely depends on what this meeting will entail.” Jim smiled gently, but his voice suddenly took on a sharp tone. “Because if you think I’m going to be apologising for defending my friend, then you are sorely mistaken.”

A quiet hum of laughter ran through the group of Finnegan’s crew. Jim didn’t move, still laid back nonchalantly, but Spock was as still as a statue. Everyone was staring at him 

“That won’t be a problem,” said one of the gang. Everyone turned to him. “He wants you to meet him at the Abandoned Bridge. Straight after school.” 

Everyone’s attention turned back to Jim, who now stood up. The Abandoned Bridge was a famous meeting place for secret parties and gatherings- something which Spock, of course, hadn’t discovered until very recently. 

He stopped in front of the group who had approached them, one hand on his hips, another stroking his jaw. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be _even more_ specific. Am I supposed to go there alone? I’m a little disappointed in the lack of planning here. Then again, Finnegan doesn’t seem to be the organised type.”

Bones grunted inconspicuously. Spock couldn’t find it in himself to internally mock him; he was distressed by Jim’s forthright behaviour, too.

He watched as the gang exchanged nervous looks. Clearly, they weren’t intimidating Jim as much as they had expected.

“He… wants to race you.” 

Jim’s smile spread slowly and threateningly across his face. 

“A race it is. I’ll see you there with my bike.”

 

 

 Jim was most infuriating. 

Jim had left the school yard with a dramatic exit, leaving McCoy, Christine, Nyota, Scotty and Spock to follow him in earnest. Spock had tried to speak with him, charging after him and trying to ask him why he had agreed to something so ridiculous, but Jim had evaded him. ‘We’ll talk about it later, Spock,’ he had said, grabbing him by the shoulder as he spoke then slipping into his English classroom fifteen minutes early. 

And so Spock was now waiting for him outside his classroom until his lesson was over- he had a free period, and knew that Jim usually went home after English. 

What had he been thinking? Did he want to get into trouble, arrested- _expelled_ even? He had already been reckless in helping Spock fend of Finnegan’s gang, but this was ridiculous. When Spock had agreed to be friends with Jim Kirk, he hadn’t expected to be wrapped up in such a mess, and he hadn’t realised how foolhardy and careless he was. Of all the people he could have befriended, it had to be the most impetuous boy on the planet Earth. He could not have anticipated waiting for him as he was now for a full hour, waiting rather than working as he should be during his free period, standing outside his classroom so that he could persuade him that racing Finnegan on his motor-bicycle was _not a wise decision_. 

Nor could he have anticipated being so concerned for his well-being. 

Of course, he knew that friends generally worried about each other if ever they were in danger- and Jim, it seemed, was the type to make this a habit- but Spock had never really considered caring that much about anyone else other than his family. 

He realised that along side the concern, there was a very strong feeling of anger. Spock noted this, and considered the reasons for it. 

Perhaps it was because Jim was behaving recklessly? No, that wasn’t it, or at least for the most part. Spock knew that other people were less sensible than himself, and so there was no cause to be angry about it, although he also knew that reason had little to do with emotions. No, it was definitely something else. 

Perhaps it was the fact that he had accepted this challenge, having only been approached with it because he had come to Spock’s defence and become entangled in his own affairs. It was even more than that, now, though- he was fighting Spock’s battles, challenging Finnegan alone, without Spock’s help. 

Yes, that was almost certainly it. 

Reckless. Arrogant. Senseless. 

He’d never felt so emotionally turbulent in his life. Perhaps Jim Kirk was proving to be more trouble than he was worth, although something told him that this wasn’t true. There was far more to Jim Kirk than he could ever realise.

The door opened and a stream of people emerged. Spock didn’t pay attention to them as he usually would- analysing their behaviour and conversations- he just waited until Jim came out. 

When he did come out, he walked straight past Spock, but then he stopped just beyond the door-frame, turning round slowly to see Spock standing behind him, hands patiently clasped behind his back. 

“….Hi?” 

“We need to discuss your decision to challenge Finnegan-” 

“No, Spock, we don’t.” 

“You said that we’d talk about it later, Jim. It is later.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t mean straight after class.”

“Perhaps you should have been more specific, then.” 

“Ok, you’re here, I’m listening- what is it you want to talk about?”

Spock was walking beside him, keeping to Jim’s fast pace towards the school exit. Now he actually had the chance to talk to him, he wasn’t sure how to phrase it. That wasn’t a problem with anyone else, but Spock was quickly learning that Jim Kirk was an anomaly in his life.

“Why did you accept Finnegan’s challenge? He is my problem, not yours.” 

“It’s a bit late for that now, Spock. I beat up his crew, too, remember? Also, he became my problem when he insulted my Dad, so chill.” 

Spock didn’t know what the last comment referred to, but he continued nonetheless. “ _I_ was the one who hit him. You know that Finnegan is challenging you because you have deprived him of his source of entertainment- me. This is my problem, I _never_ wanted your help in the first place.” 

“Doesn’t change the fact that I did anyway- this is both of our problems. He approached _me,_ not you. Wait- is this because you’re offended that they didn’t approach you?” 

“No, that is not in my nature.” 

“Bullshit,” Jim whispered.

“Excuse me?” Spock stopped. Jim stopped just in front of him. The exit was just ahead of them. 

“Sorry, I’ll speak up- I said _bullshit._ I don’t care how many times you tell me Vulcans don’t feel that stuff, this conversation is pretty indicative of the fact that you are _jealous.”_

“You think I would ever wish to challenge Finnegan? I am not so reckless as you, Kirk.”

“Oh! We’re using last names now. Well… wait, what is your last name-?”

“I am not offended. I am not jealous. I am… you should never have defended me. You should never have endangered yourself. And now you’re doing it again- you’re engaging a dangerous individual, for what? To defend my honour? Or is it the adrenaline, Jim? This is a matter of your pride, and I do not want any part of it. Do not meddle with my issues, get yourself into trouble, say you are doing it on my behalf and then accuse me of being jealous.”

No one spoke for a few moments. Jim hadn’t torn his gaze away, and he was still staring at Spock now, eyes fierce and hurt, jaw tight. It was difficult to hold his gaze, as ever- those blue eyes were so overbearing. But Spock was not the only one who could stand his ground. Jim was putting himself in danger, and he apparently had no control of the situation that had originally been his problem; he had sufficient reason to voice his distaste.

Then Jim blinked, and his expression softened.

“Maybe you’re right. I do enjoy the adrenaline. I dunno… I like getting into trouble, I guess. But that isn’t _just_ what this is about.” He paused, and looked at his feet. “You don’t have to believe me, but _actually_ , I am also doing this I want them to know that if they wanna mess with you, they come through me. Because I care about you.” 

He shook his head and rolled his eyes, as if he hadn’t just said one of the kindest things anyone had ever said Spock, and then left the building. Spock remembered how his feet worked and followed him. 

“If you… if you care about me, then why won’t you listen to what I’m telling you? Why are you still putting yourself in danger when I am asking you not to?”

Jim gave him a look, which Spock could only gather meant something along the lines of “are you an idiot?”. He didn’t know what he was being an idiot about, however. Humans were most complex.

“Look, Spock, I’m going whether you like it or not. Besides, it’ll be fun.”

“Fun?” Spock wasn’t surprised; this behaviour was apparently typical of Jim Kirk. He was, however, confused, and sought a way of understanding how this boy’s mind worked.

“Yes, fun. And with the whole school hearing about it-”

“The whole school has heard about it?”

“- they’ll definitely back off when I publically humiliate the guy. Ok? So, just leave it to me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They’d reached Jim’s bike. It was rather out-dated and worn out. Spock took a moment to register what Jim had said.

“You think that I will leave you to do this by yourself?”

Jim prepared to straddle the bike, then paused. “You want to come…?” he asked warily.

“If what you say is true, and you are doing this because you care about me, I cannot very well leave you without my support. And, if you are as reckless as you seem, you could easily be injured. My assistance may be required.” 

Spock knew McCoy would be there for that, but he found himself not mentioning it. 

“You want to come with me,” Jim stated, slowly. Why he was being so cautious, Spock didn’t know. 

“It isn’t so much that I want to, rather I ought to,” he said, although, again, he found himself evading the entire truth. 

He looked at the bike. He hadn’t considered how he would get there, until this moment. 

“Well, I’m guessing you need a ride then.” Jim swung onto the bike and waited, daring him and wiggling his eyebrows. 

Spock knew that if he hesitated for any longer, he would only decide to not go at all in order to avoid the close proximity of sitting on the bike with Jim. So instead, he complied without saying anything, sitting behind him before he could change his mind. Jim shuffled in his seat, as if he were uncomfortable. Did he not wish him to come with him? Jim cleared his throat. 

“Okay. Let’s go. Put your arms around me.” 

Spock complied. Jim was cool to the touch. He was not used to being so close to people in this way. It made him uncomfortable but he knew such close contact was necessary if he wanted to avoid falling off the bike. 

He tried not to think about it too much whilst Jim drove. The two of them were silent for the whole ten minute journey, which was unusual since the two of them seemed to always have something to say to each other. 

Spock found that he didn’t want to be on the bike with him, but he also paradoxically craved it. It hadn’t occurred to him how much he wanted to be close to him, and now that his arms were wrapped around his waist he felt relieved but also terrified and frustrated and nervous and- so many things. He couldn’t name them or count them. It was undeniably alarming.

Surely, this wasn’t an unusual sensation to feel for a friend, Spock considered. Jim and McCoy were very tactile with one another, although it was generally more aggressive than Spock saw fit for a friendship. Jim would slap McCoy on the back, McCoy would grip his arm when he was frustrated with him or explaining something important, they would bump shoulders with each other when they walked. So for Spock to seek physical contact from Jim was not strange. Surely, it was natural. 

Jim was tense. Spock could feel it.

He should not even be here. He should not be with Jim. He should not be following him into danger. His father had practically forbidden it, and for good reason. Everything about this was dangerous, and Spock knew it. And yet-

The sea air blew through his hair. He closed his eyes against the wind. Even though his father had advised against him even seeing Jim outside of what was necessary, Spock found that any time with Jim was necessary. There was some inescapable feeling within him that demanded he be with Jim Kirk as much as possible, and somehow it triumphed over all logic.

When they turned the corner into the dockyard by the Abandoned Bridge, they found an enormous crowd. Practically the whole school had gathered to see the event, as Jim had predicted. Spock suddenly felt even more uncomfortable with a swarm of people watching them. 

“Woah,” Jim said. “Shit just got real.” 

Spock decided he couldn’t justify a response to that, and swiftly got off Jim’s bike. “Jim, may I remind you again, before you do this-” 

Jim turned to face him, and grabbed both of his shoulders. Spock tensed up from the contact. He looked him straight in the eye with that confident smile, the one that blinded him of everything that was happening around him. 

“I’m gonna be fine. This is _all_ gonna be over soon, and then we won’t be arguing any more about who’s defending whom and who’s getting whom into trouble. OK?” 

Spock somehow doubted that; Jim managed to find trouble easily. In fact, he enjoyed it, apparently. Spock wasn’t even supposed to be with him right now, for that exact reason. And yet he simultaneously found himself believing him, _trusting_ him- he knew Jim would be OK. He would survive this ridiculous display of bravado. 

The foolishness, the recklessness, the _arrogance-_

He felt that strange mixture of anger and concern re-emerge as he watched him push his motorbike through the crowd, which parted easily. People whispered to each other, watching him approach the end of the bridge. 

The image of Jim walking away from him, marching into some dangerous situation frightened him more than it should have, but Spock could no longer deny that it was there, or why. He cared about Jim, too. But he could not control him. This would not be the last time he argued with him about putting himself in danger. This would not be the last time that watch him walk away from him. 

“Jim- Jim, you idiot, you’re really going through with this?” 

His thoughts were thankfully interrupted as McCoy ploughed through some unsuspecting spectators, who were rather put off as he pushed past them. He reached out and grabbed Jim’s t-shirt. 

“Why the hell did you have to get into that damn fight? Think about it, just, think about for a second-” 

“I have, Bones, and I’m doing it, now go join the others and wish me luck.” 

Jim grinned. McCoy shook his head and threw his hands in the air. “Good luck,” he growled, before returning to where he was before. With him were Uhura, Scotty, Sulu, and Chekov. 

Spock followed Jim. Jim didn’t complain. 

Finnegan was there already, arms folded in front of him, leaning against his bike. He still had a bad bruise on his eye, his jaw, his cheek, his nose was bandaged- far less damage than Spock was truly capable of inflicting. 

“Jimmy boy! I thought you’d never come! _”_

Jim just pushed his bike up to the start point where Finnegan was waiting for him, smiling in such a way that implied he was unfazed by his words and was confident in his own skills. It was an arrogant smile that had frustrated Spock in the past. It made him feel like whatever he did or said, Jim knew what really lay behind them. That terrified Spock. Finnegan was bouncing from one foot to another, fists pulled back, mimicking the stance of a boxer. His grin was what made it frightening when it would ordinarily have been comical.

Now that Spock had emerged from most of the crowd, he could see the bridge better now; only half of it was left, or maybe even less, lengths of suspension wire dangling over the broken end. It must have been destroyed during a Romulan attack. The image didn’t fill him with hope for Jim’s safety. 

They both mounted their bikes, Jim revving the engine threateningly. The crowd cheered in response. Finnegan did the same, and the crowd cheered again. 

Spock melted into the crowd, keeping his eyes on Jim. He and Finnegan exchanged words, although he couldn’t hear them from where he was, but it made Jim smile in that swaggering, frightening way that hinted that he was about to injure himself. 

“He’ll be fine.” Uhura’s voice came from his left, and he was happy to hear it. Her hands were clasped in front of her face in anticipation; she seemed to think that this was an idiotic plan, too, but found some enjoyment in it. Spock found no such enjoyment in watching his friend do something so reckless. 

Before he could argue that actually there was a good chance he _wouldn’t_ be fine, considering that this was Finnegan he was racing, a loud voice interrupted him. 

“Now, boys, there’s only two rules in this game,” it was a girl he didn’t recognise, holding a flag haphazardly made out of a t-shirt on a stick, “and that’s don’t kill each other, and don’t fall off the end of the bridge- if you can.” 

The crowd cheered and whooped, and Spock wasn’t comforted in the slightest. Finnegan laughed. 

“First one to reach the closest to the edge without chickening out wins. On your marks-” 

Their engines revved. 

“-get set-” 

Jim leaned forward. Spock wasn’t watching Finnegan. 

“GO!| 

The two of them leaped forward at frightening speed, leaving the girl windswept and tangled in her long hair and the ‘flag’. It would take only ten seconds or less for them to reach the end of the bridge. Nonetheless, the crowd surged forward onto the bridge in an attempt to follow them, and Spock found himself running ahead of them all, eventually slowing to a stop, watching the two of them shrink into the distance. The whole time the crowd cheered, Scotty chanting something obscene and Uhura whistling at an alarmingly loud level. McCoy joined his side. 

“Bastard better not get himself hurt.” One of his hands was plastered over his mouth, a sign of distress that Spock had seen before. 

He didn’t reply. He didn’t want to show how concerned he was for Jim’s welfare. Especially now that he could hear screeching in the distance- suddenly the crowd surged forward again, and people were pushing past him.

“Come on Spock, they’ve reached the end!” Sulu shouted, waving for him to join them. 

He did. 

Spock had never seen himself as the type to be part of this sort of gathering, and yet here he was, running after his the most aggravating, arrogant, impetuous boy on the planet- possibly in the _universe-_ to see if he had survived a race against a bully because of _him_. The whole situation was absurd. 

And yet as he watched him disappear, terrified at the sight of losing him, he also felt the second hand exhilaration, like he was meant to be there following him into battle, watching his back as he forged ahead. Jim was changing his world and he was letting him, pushing through crowds of people just to see it happen. 

As they got closer, he could see them both lying on the ground. That was not a good sign.

“Goddammit,” McCoy muttered. 

As he ran to the end of the bridge, it seemed to take forever. The pillars of the suspension bridge streaking past his peripheral vision, the crowd gradually getting smaller as each person decided they couldn’t be bothered to run any further. But he kept going. 

Why did he keep running? _Why_ did he keep running after Jim? Why was he so determined to follow him, like there was some force pulling him to his side? Spock was ordinarily so logical, so separate from passion, but now that his life had coincided with Jim’s he felt like all the feelings he’d been supressing for 17 years were coming up all at once. It was terrifying and _dangerous-_ Vulcan’s weren’t supposed to be so in touch with feelings, let alone have all of them come up all at once- and it was all Jim Kirk’s fault. It was his fault that whenever he thought about him he had to suffer an inexplicable, painful concoction of emotion that he couldn’t describe, he couldn’t decipher, and he couldn’t hold back- no matter how much he’d tried.

And he certainly tried.

He thought as he ran, he ran as the thought- he wasn’t really sure which one came first. He wasn’t fully aware of anything that was happening, apart from the image Jim ahead of him, the anticipation of reaching him, of seeing him. When he finally reached them, they were both lying on their backs, panting, their bikes just ahead of them. Everyone tried to crowd around them, but they were so dangerously close to the edge that they retreated. Spock silently pushed through to the front. 

There was no argument. It was a clear win. His bike was practically hanging off the edge.

“The winner is- JIM KIRK!”

People mostly cheered, although there was the occasional boo.

Spock was instantly by his side, standing over him. He would have helped him up, but he looked so proud of himself that Spock thought he didn’t deserve his sympathy.

Jim winced up at him, mud and oil all over his face and clothes. He looked terrible, but he also looked happy, and that was important. Spock had chosen not to sympathise with him, but when he smiled, he couldn’t help but at least feel happy for him.

“I won.”

“Yes,” Spock replied, voice intentionally heavy with disdain. He looked over at Finnegan, who was wrestling out of his friends arms and shouting incoherently. He was furious. Despite his struggle to make his way to Jim, his friends- and people who didn’t appear to like him too much- dragged him away.

“You- don’t sound impressed,” he wheezed, as McCoy propped him up, injecting him with a hypo and muttering incoherently.

“Your assumption is wrong. Despite being idiotic- your actions had a certain of impressiveness to them.”

“Well, thanks,” Jim chuckled, his hoarse gravelly, although his thanks didn’t sound completely sincere. “I seriously hope this means he’ll back off.”

Finnegan had given up wrestling the strength of those holding him back. His head was hung so Spock couldn’t see his face. A sign of resignation. 

“It’s a wonder you’re still alive,” McCoy said. 

“Ah, come on, it wasn’t that bad a fall, my bike had already slowed plenty-” 

“No, I mean in general. You do this kind of shit so often, it’s a miracle you’re still here.” 

Spock might have been angry before, and he was definitely still confused, but there was a certain level of affection he held for Jim Kirk, especially now as he watched him hobble away, looking for him over his shoulder. Spock did not only follow Jim, but Jim expected to see him there too, and Spock found himself more and more willing to fulfill these expectations.

Yes. He definitely felt affection for him, and for some unfathomable reason, that affection was growing.


	8. Oblivious (Aztec Camera)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock is 'in too deep.'

Spock woke up on Saturday morning wondering how Jim was.  
  
He’d suffered from a fractured wrist, but with some proper medical care it should heal within a week or two. Other than that, he’d received a cut to the cheek and some bad grazes along his side, but was largely unhurt. McCoy had attentively seen to his wounds. And yet, Spock was still concerned for his health.  
  
So this is what it is to have a real friend, he thought.  
  
He decided the best thing to do to keep his mind off the matter was to carry on with his usual schedule- first he would have breakfast, then do his homework. Nothing had changed.  
  
He found his father at the breakfast table, examining his e-paper which probably had something of great galactic importance on it, so Spock didn’t say anything to him. He did not want to distract him.  
  
“Spock,” he said. It was his way of saying good morning, good afternoon, good evening, hello.  
  
“Father.”  
  
He assumed that would be the end of the conversation, as it usually was, but it wasn’t.  
  
“I trust you are now staying away from James Kirk at school.”  
  
At first, he didn’t know how to reply without lying. “It is difficult, father. We share almost all of our classes, and we are project partners for physics.”  
  
Spock poured himself some _sash savas_ tea, his back turned to his father.  
  
“I see. Then I advise you to avoid him when you can.”  
  
Spock was grateful that he asked no more questions, because he wasn’t sure how many more times he could evade the truth. He honestly had tried to avoid Jim, at first- it was the logical decision. But he inevitably found himself drawn towards him. Just as he constantly thought about him, he couldn’t avoid him, it seemed.  
  
They ate breakfast in silence.  
  
His mother wished him a good morning when she came in, prepared to do some gardening. Mother enjoyed filling her time when she wasn’t teaching. Jim did something similar; when he wasn’t working, he was often fixing his motorcycle in the school garage. Although, he probably wouldn’t be able to do so efficiently with a broken arm.  
  
“What are you plans today, Spock?”  
  
Spock blinked. He never noticed when he started thinking about Jim- it just happened. This was disturbing, as Spock usually had far better control of his thoughts. Was this normal? He assumed it was. However, he had grown to care Jim him a lot over a very short amount of time. It was most unnatural for him, and he was ashamed. That somehow did not stop him from thinking about him, though.  
  
“I plan to work on my assignments, mother. And for yourself?”  
  
Should he be ashamed? he thought, as he warmed his hands around his mug of tea. He had defended him against Finnegan, he had acted on his behalf. At first, that irritated him, but he soon realised that no one had ever done anything like that for him except for his mother, so he could only assume that Jim cared a lot for him too. He’d done more than prove his worth as a friend. It was only natural that Spock care for him in return.  
  
“Spock?”  
  
He looked up from his tea. He hadn’t heard his mother’s question. This behaviour was most unlike him.  
  
Both his mother and father were looking at him expectantly.  
  
“Are you meeting Nyota again this weekend?” his mother asked again.  
  
Ah yes. He had told them that the reason he was late after school yesterday was because he’d been spending time with his new friend, Nyota, rather than admitting the whole truth- that together they were watching Jim race against the boy he’d punched in the face recently.  
  
He was about to say no, when he stopped himself.  
  
Perhaps he should check on Jim. It was only logical- he was injured. And they were friends, after all. He had tried to avoid it until now, but it seemed he could not postpone the visit any longer. Therefore, he wasn’t really going against his father’s advice.  
  
“No. But I would like to work on my assignments with my classmates today.”  
  
His mother smiled. Sarek went back to reading his e-paper. “That’s a nice idea, Spock,” she said, picking up his empty plate out of habit and putting it in the dishwasher before Spock had the chance to do it himself. “Just let us know when you’re coming home, dear.”  
  
Was he really doing this? Jim might be busy. He might not want to see him, and yet he had made plans to see him anyway. This was most unlike him. “Yes, mother.”  
  
He stood up and went to his room, taking his PADD from his desk.  
  
_> Good morning, Jim. How do you feel today?_  
  
He was quick to respond. He hadn’t thought he’d be awake at all, since most human teenagers seemed to sleep for longer than himself.  
  
_< like bones gave me one too many hypos. kinda like im hungover to be honest_  
  
_> You are lucky you have McCoy to take care of you when you injure yourself. _  
  
_< yeah I know that but ugghhhhhh_  
  
_< at least my arm doesn’t hurt too bad_  
  
_> I am happy to hear that you are not in pain. Do you have plans for the day?_  
  
He didn’t reply for at least a minute and a half. Spock sat on his bed and watched the screen until it changed.  
  
_< nope_  
  
_< wanna meet up? ☺_  
  
Spock kept on forgetting that Jim didn’t know that his father had told him not to see him. He hesitated, but only for a second.  
  
_> Yes. When and where shall we meet?_  
  
All of a sudden, he felt nervous. But also relieved. It was a strange combination.  
  
_< Er… we could go to the diner but 2bh it reminds me of physics...! You could come over to mine? but it’s… kinda small._  
  
_> That will not be an issue. I can be there in half an hour. _  
  
_< cool ☺ see you soon_  
  
And that was that. He had just disobeyed his father, and lied to his mother. Well, it wouldn’t be a lie if he and Jim did some work together at some point in the day, since he had said that he would be working on his assignments with classmates- but he wasn’t sure if Jim had planned on doing anything of the such today. He decided to bring his school bag anyway.  
  
He stood in his room for a moment, wondering if he should bring anything else; he’d never actually been to a friend’s house before. Not even when he was very young, as was customary for human children- the Vulcan children had been suspicious of him from very early on. He decided that he should bring his wallet, just in case, and his PADD to contact his parents when he was coming home.  
  
It took 28 minutes to get to Jim’s house. They both lived almost equidistantly from school, but in the opposite directions to each other. He had to use his PADD to find his way, but it wasn’t difficult- Jim had given him the address to his house. He’d told him not to walk, but Spock argued that he preferred to walk.  
  
When he reached his destination, he looked up from his PADD at the apartment building in front of him. It was enormous, grey, and ugly. There was laundry hanging from some of the windows. A few children ran around and screamed in the small playground at the front of the building, arguing who would go on the swing set next. There were seagulls everywhere picking through the trash.  
  
Jim was in apartment 14b, 5th floor, Spock reminded himself, as he pressed the correct buttons inside the lift.  
  
He felt nervous again. He’d managed to keep this at bay for his journey here, but now the feeling was back, and he couldn’t explain it.  
  
Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea that he’d come.  
  
He shouldn’t be here at all. Jim made him act completely outside of his normal behaviour. He couldn’t stop thinking about him; it seemed unhealthy. Maybe he should put a stop their interactions sooner rather than later.  
  
But now he was at his front door, ringing the door-bell. He believed he was, as they say, ‘in too deep’.  
  
Jim opened the door towel drying his hair.  
  
“Sorry, only just got out the shower a few minutes ago, so I look like a mess. Come in,” he added, dumping the towel on his bed.  
  
Jim had been right. It was small.  
  
“Living room- bedroom- kitchen,” he said pointing at different corners of the room. “And bathroom,” he added, pointing to a door at the back of the room. Jim looked at him, as though waiting for him to comment. “It’s small, but it does the job. Coffee?”  
  
“No, thank you.”  
  
“I also have water, and… uh… water.”  
  
“No, thank you.”  
  
“Okay,” he said. He cleared his throat.  
  
“Your injuries look far better. I may have underestimate McCoy’s skills.”  
  
Jim laughed as he poured himself some coffee. “Yeah, most people do. He’s actually better than most doctors out there already. That’s why I don’t feel so dead this morning.” He gestured to the sofa and Spock sat down.  
  
“So… any particular reason you decided to come over?” He asked, his back turned to him as he added sugar to his coffee. “Thought weekends were your time to do homework. Or, well, extra stuff. Whatever it is that makes you a genius.”  
  
Spock looked at his knees. Now that he really thought about it, he wasn’t entirely sure himself.  
  
“I wished to see how your injuries were healing. And I considered that visiting you was a more productive use of my time than learning things I already know.”  
  
Jim was still, hands on the kitchen counter. Spock could see the steam from his coffee rising over his shoulder. And then he turned round, a confident smile on his face. “Well, I’ll take that as a complement. Besides, it’s nice to have you round. You’re welcome whenever, just don’t expect me to have anything particularly entertaining round here. Other than my company of course,” he added with a smirk, sitting on the opposite end of the sofa and crossing his legs, wrapping his hands around his coffee mug.    
  
A comfortable silence settled, and Spock surveyed the apartment. Jim was right- his apartment was small, but it had everything a person needed. It was messy, but evidently in an organised manner; each thing had its place for a reason. He had posters of starships, and movies he didn’t know placed randomly around the room. There were books everywhere- they didn’t seemed to be in any sort of order- their subjects ranging from alien literature to trans-warp mechanics.  
  
“May I?” he asked, picking one up.  
  
“Sure, sure, go ahead. Sorry if it’s a bit of a mess in here- I don’t usually have guests apart from Bones, and he likes to clean up for me,” he laughed. He sat down at the other end of the sofa, crossing his legs and warming his hands on the mug of coffee.  
  
Spock looked at the spine of the book he’d picked up. It was very old. Treasure Island. He opened it up to find the date; 1939. It was very well preserved.  
  
“You have a fascinating collection of books,” he said.  
  
“Thanks. That actually used to be my Dad’s. Well, it’s kind of been passed down the Kirk family. He gave it to my brother Sam… just before he died, then Sam gave it to me. I don’t think he wanted to be reminded of him.” He swallowed. “He died when I was so young, I… don’t have anything to be reminded of. Besides, it’s looks nice.”  
  
Spock delicately replaced it, taking another which had some Andorian poetry. “Are all of these books inherited from your family?”  
  
“Oh, no, no. I found most of them. Bought them for cheap in thrift shops, that sort of thing. I don’t know how I’ve managed to gather so many in so short an amount of time, though,” he added, looking around the room at the towers of books scattered around the place. His cheeks were pink from having just come out of the shower, and his shoulders were slightly damp from the drops of water in his hair.  
  
Spock’s attention was diverted by something else. A Starfleet prospectus. Jim saw his line of vision.  
  
“Yeah… I’ve been thinking about joining Starfleet pretty seriously recently. My dad was the first officer on the USS Kelvin, and my mom worked on there too. So I guess I should hate Starfleet, but… I wanna be out there, doing something useful. Do what my parents didn’t get enough of a chance to do, and help people. Preferably without dying,” he added, laughing quietly, even though what he’d said hadn’t been funny at all.  
  
Spock had had his suspicions about his father, but he hadn’t wanted to jump to conclusions. He looked at him, unsure what to say.  
  
“Hey, don’t look at me like that. I’m fine on my own. I mean, I wasn’t at first. My mom survived, so did my big brother. The three of us lived together with my uncle Frank, and then…well, that didn’t last.”  
  
Spock knew Jim was holding back, that there were things he didn’t want to share, and that was fine. He looked back at the Starfleet prospectus.  
  
“You can borrow it if you like,” he said. Spock had said so little this whole time, and yet Jim seemed to know what he was thinking.  
  
He hadn’t really considered Starfleet before. Following the Vulcan way was what he’d been taught to do, so he didn’t really have any other choice than join the Vulcan Science Academy.  
  
He could imagine Jim in Starfleet, though. In fact, the more Spock imagined him in the captain’s chair, the more it seemed perfect for him. He’d need someone to hold him back at times, however; he was rather… spontaneous.  
  
“Have you always considered Starfleet?”  
  
“No way,” he shook his head, bringing his knees to his chest and looking away from him. “Nah, I hated the idea at first. Pike tracked me down somehow, said I should enlist. I was working at the time, and, well, I thought… I thought he was crazy. I knew I was destined for greater things than working in the shit-hole I was in, but Starfleet? No… warmed up to the idea eventually though.”  
  
Spock picked up the prospectus and began to flick through the e-pages.  
  
Father had always told him to follow logic. His mother had once told him to ‘go with his gut’. As he looked through the prospectus, Spock understood what his mother had been trying to tell him.  
  
“Pass it here?”  
  
Spock did, and, to his surprise, saw Jim take out a pair of glasses as he sat up properly and flicked to one of the pages. Jim clearly noticed his surprise, because he said, “Yeah, I don’t like wearing them that often.”  
  
It startled Spock that the first thing he thought in reaction was “but they suit you so well”. He ignored the tickling sensation in his chest when Jim looked over the rim of his glasses and smiled.  
  
“Why?” he asked eventually.  
  
“Because they’re uncomfortable, and I’m stubborn. Okay, so look at this,” he said, pointing at a page of statistics. Spock appreciated the change in subject. “If I end up acing the entrance exams, then I could advance straight to second year modules, maybe even do, like, all of the modules that I’m interested in.” Spock noted that he had highlighted most of the module choices in the prospectus.    
  
“Very few people even score above 60% in the entrance exam, Jim.” He didn’t want to dampen his spirits, but he doubted that even he could ‘ace’ such an exam, and he spent practically all of his time expanding his knowledge.  
  
Then again, this was Jim. Spending time with Jim was basically a constant string of surprises. And he was very intelligent.  
  
“I could do it.” He seemed so determined, that Spock didn’t doubt him anymore.  
  
“What about you?” he asked, putting his glasses back in his pocket and returning to his previous position on the sofa. “What do you wanna do after school?”  
  
Spock took the prospectus off him, putting it next to him on the sofa.  
  
“My father wishes me to apply for the Vulcan Science Academy.”  
  
When he didn’t reply, Spock looked at him. Jim’s mouth was twisted in thought. “You know, the way you say that doesn’t fill me with confidence.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean, you just answered a different question to the one I asked. I asked you what you want to do, and you told me what your dad wants you to do. What do you want to do?”  
  
Spock was so taken aback at first that he didn’t respond for a few moments. This whole time, he’d confused what he wanted with what he was expected to do. It seemed illogical, now that he realised this; how could he so easily confuse the two? How could he so easily forget his own aspirations- forget that they even existed?      
  
“I… do not know.”  
  
Jim shrugged, but was still watching him, trying to read him. “No on really knows what they wanna do at this point in their life. Everyone always acts like we should, but that’s bullshit. Don’t panic.”  
  
He wasn’t panicking, but he was certainly concerned.  This whole time, he didn’t think he had a choice but go to the VSA, but now he really thought about going back to Vulcan, all that he had made for himself on Earth… the thought filled him with fear.  
  
“Hey-” Jim leaned forward, crossing his legs again and shuffling closer to Spock. “We still have a year of school after this one to think about it. You’ve got time, even if it doesn’t feel like it. The important thing isn’t what happens straight after school, it’s getting to a place where you’re happy. Even if it takes a few years.”  
  
He didn’t want to talk about this right now. Or, at all. “Professor Pike found you, because he wanted you to enlist- did he know your father?”  
  
Jim leaned back again, registering the change in conversation and nodded. “Yeah, they were colleagues, sort of. I’m not really sure, he doesn’t tell me much. He sure is persuasive though.” Jim smiled. “He dared me to do better than my dad. I’m a sucker for dares- couldn’t ignore it.”  
  
Spock nodded. That was true, he’d seen it for himself. He couldn’t turn down the motorbike challenge against Finnegan. In fact, he didn’t even need to be prompted to do something outrageous or dangerous- he had after all confronted Finnegan first, against Spock’s wishes. It was that need to prove himself, that need for action that would make him great in Starfleet, but also made him a rather frightening person to be around at times. Like you always had to keep watch over him, because any second he could do something unprecedented.  
  
“My father advised me to avoid you as much as possible.” He said it out-loud, he didn’t know why- but he supposed that Jim should find out at some point.  
  
Jim stared at his knees. “I figured.”  
  
Spock frowned, looking at him quizzically.  
  
“I got you into trouble. Your dad must’ve been pissed. Vulcan’s aren’t exactly the type to get into trouble.”  
  
“Evidently, that is incorrect.”  
  
Jim laughed quietly. “True.” He paused. “Why are you still hanging out with me then?”  
  
His voice was strained and he wouldn’t look him in the eye. At first, Spock was unsure of how to answer his question; but there was one thing he did know for sure.  
  
“Because… for the first time in my life, I feel… at home.”  
  
There was silence as Jim waited for him to expand. Spock kept his gaze firmly fixed on his hands, which were spread out on his lap. Jim deserved to hear the truth, especially after he had shared information on his own past. He took a measured breath. “Vulcan is not an easy place for someone like me to live in- for someone who is not completely Vulcan. Our race is viewed as being level-headed, logical- and this is generally true. But what many people do not know is that our logic does not limit our capacity to be discriminatory, to hurt other people. I very often suffered at the hands of such people as a child. As did my mother.”  
  
He paused. He rarely thought about this sort of thing himself, but now it was all coming out, and it was like he couldn’t stop it, and he didn’t think he wanted to. Perhaps he just didn’t have the emotional control yet; if he’d met Jim perhaps only a year or two later, he wouldn’t be sharing this at all. But as it was, he was a 17 year old half Vulcan half human, and he just did not have the emotional control expected of him.  
  
He was glad that he had met Jim sooner rather than later.  
  
“When we moved to Earth, I was… not surprised that I did not feel at home here, or that I was being accosted by people such as Finnegan. I was content with letting my life pass by, without even trying to improve it.” He swallowed. “But since then I have made friends. And so my quality of life has improved vastly.”  
  
He looked at Jim now, who appeared sad. The warmth that usually pervaded his eyes, his smile, was somehow dampened.  
  
“My father forgets that I am also half Human. He suggests that I dedicate myself to the Vulcan way, when I am also human. He… cannot understand.”  
  
“You forget it yourself too, you know.”  
  
He tilted his head in assent. “That is also true.”  
  
“It… I don’t want this to come out the wrong way, but it sounds like he just wants the best for you. Not that he should be forcing expectations on you or anything,” he added hastily, tracing the seam of his trousers nervously with his index. “But…. I don’t want you risking everything just to be here.”  
  
Spock blinked. “I believe you are correct in part… however, I would not take such a risk if I had not already considered it’s logic.”  
  
Jim smiled weakly. That warmth slowly returned.  
  
“Besides,” Spock continued, once again opening up to Jim when he hadn’t planned on it, “my father cannot know the best for me- not when I do not even know it myself.”  
  
That light in Jim’s eyes was still weaker than usual, and Spock wondered what had made him that way. He seemed to be remembering something Spock could not see. “No one does. When I was 14 and moved out, I didn’t know what was best for me. I knew it wasn’t living on the streets for three months, that’s for sure, and I was worried that I’d made the wrong decision- but I just went with my gut. And now I’m here,” he said, gesturing to the apartment. “Jealous right?”  
  
Spock almost smiled. He swallowed back his feelings.  
  
“No, but seriously. I’m glad I’m out of there, even if it meant that I didn’t know what to do for a long time. If you follow your gut feeling, you’ll get there eventually. I know, it’s some real Disney movie crap, but it worked out for me.”  
  
He was fiddling with the sofa seam again.  
  
“Was it hard?”  
  
Jim frowned and shrugged. “Everyone has stuff. Sure it was hard. Let’s talk about something else.”  
  
He hadn’t meant to push it too far. He'd wanted to ask about his mother and brother, why he lived alone, how he'd managed to get this apartment, why all of this had happened to him in the first place- but Jim was clearly not ready to open up. For someone so exuberant, it hadn’t occurred to Spock that he was also capable of being quite defensive.  
  
There was so much to Jim that he didn’t know. He was certainly not the vapid fool he’d originally judged him to be. No. Jim Kirk was far more than that. And the increasing rate of affection he felt towards him terrified Spock.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Jim frowned again, but this time with a small smile. “For what?”  
  
He wasn’t so sure, now he’d said it. “For confronting Finnegan- for helping me. You have taken great risks on my behalf.”  
  
Jim raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “I thought you didn’t like me meddling in your ‘personal affairs’”, he said, his fingers forming quotation marks.  
  
“I see now that your intentions were good, and that I was perhaps a little proud.” Now that he had gained some perspective on the situation, through time, Spock found that Jim's actions were praiseworthy. Kind. And that Spock had, in fact, been proud to assume that he shouldn't accept help from his friends, whether he needed it or not. That didn't mean he found it easy to accept such help- he had spent much of his life being almost entirely self-sufficient. And he wasn't sure how he felt about how often he would get into trouble, now that he was spending so much time with Jim- but he also found that he didn't actually care that much about those... minor details.  
  
Both of Jim's eyebrows were raised. He leaned back against the arm of the sofa. “Oh really? So you’re breaking the rules to see me, and you’re actually thanking me for backing you up?”  
  
“Jim, I am trying to show you my appreciation for your actions, please do not ruin the moment.”  
  
Jim laughed raucously, as if he were proud of himself. “I’m sorry, ok, ok, I’m sorry. Your appreciation is appreciated, Spock. Thank you.”  
  
Spock nodded once.  
  
“So, you’re dad doesn’t want us to see each other?”  
  
“…no.”  
  
Jim settled further back into his seat. “You know, that’s pretty exciting. We’re seeing each other secretly,” he said, wiggling his fingers as if that conveyed excitement.  
  
“Jim, it isn’t exciting, it means that at some point I’m going to be in serious trouble.”  
  
He looked at him. “And that doesn’t excite you?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Oh.” He sounded almost disappointed. “Well, you know, I think it sounds like the plot of a movie or something.”  
  
Spock sighed, and Jim laughed again.  
  
“So, where do your parents think you are?”  
  
He still felt guilty for lying to them. “Working on my assignments with classmates.”  
  
“Hey- well, that doesn’t have to be a lie. I’m a classmate, and I should probably do some work today, so, you know, win-win.”  
  
“That was my also my logic.”  
  
“Well, feel free to do some whenever, I’ll probably join you. Mind if I put some music on?”  
  
Spock generally preferred to work in silence, but this was Jim’s apartment and he didn’t feel that it was his right to argue. “No.”  
  
Jim stood up and searched through his music collection, which came up on a flickering screen.  
  
“Anything you’re particularly averse to?”  
  
Spock took out his work from his bag. “I admit that I do not listen to Earth music often, only Vulcan.”  
  
Jim turned round and looked at him. “So… you only like Vulcan music?”  
  
“Not necessarily, I am just unacquainted to Earth music.”  
  
Jim just stood there for a moment, before a look of delighted anticipation took over him. He bit his lip. “Oh man, you gotta- just- ok, we’ll do some work in a minute, just bare with me-” he started frantically searching the apartment for something. He picked up his headphones and an old generation of ipod.  
  
“Okay, where do I even start? There’s so much to show you.”  
  
Spock found that he didn’t have a choice but indulge him, and to be quite honest, he wanted to. Jim seemed so happy to share something he loved that he just sat there quietly and waited.  
  
He sat down right next to him. Spock turned round in his seat so he was facing him.  
  
“I didn’t know Vulcans were much into music.”  
  
“People generally assume so- we were in actual fact a rather artistic race. While that may have faded in time, we have sought to protect what art we have produced, and have a sufficient appreciation for it.”  
  
Jim shook his head. “’Sufficient appreciation’,” he repeated. “What does that mean? What counts as an insufficient appreciation? How could you be overly appreciative of music?”  
  
Spock admitted that this didn’t make much sense, but before he could reply, Jim handed him his headphones. “Ok, I think you might like this one.”  
  
Spock took them hesitantly.  
  
“They might be old but they’re not gonna kill you, I promise.”  
  
“I did not suggest such a thing.”  
  
“Yeah, well you’re looking at them like they might. Now put them on.”  
  
Spock complied, putting them over his ears. Jim said something which he couldn’t hear over the headphones- they surprisingly good quality, even though they were so dated- but he could lip read what he was saying. This is one of my favourites.  
  
It started too loudly, and somehow Jim could tell because he turned it down. Perhaps he knew that Vulcan hearing was sensitive.  
  
At first, Spock wasn’t overly impressed. It didn’t sound much different to any of the music he’d barely paid attention to playing in café’s or the diner. But then the lyrics came in and he was struck by the emotional response it elicited within him. Until now, he had thought he wouldn’t be interested in Earth music- that somehow it would be uninteresting and empty, but realised now that to think this made no logical sense. Music created by human beings was surely guaranteed to be emotionally complex. He was frustrated that he hadn’t paid much attention to it until now.  
  
He looked up at Jim and nodded. He smiled, watching him with an indecipherable expression.  
  
What does it make you feel? He saw him say.  
  
He blinked. All he knew was that it made him feel. He had no idea what the feeling was.  
  
“I do not know,” he responded truthfully. He closed his eyes and let his attention focus on the music, rather than look at Jim, who’s presence was beginning to make him feel uncomfortable for some reason.  
  
Jim had obviously been watching the progression of the song on his ipod, because when it came to an end, he took the headphones of Spock’s head. He flinched from the unexpected contact.  
  
“Sorry, didn’t mean to give you a shock,” he said quietly. He cleared his throat. “We should probably do some work.”  
  
“I agree.” Spock wasn’t sure why he felt so anxious all of a sudden, but doing his homework would hopefully settle his nerves. And break the tension that had built between them.  
  
Jim bent over the edge of the sofa and picked up his books. He laid them in front of him on the sofa.  
  
“So… I could make you a mixed tape, if you like. I’ll put that song on there for you, too. If you want to hear more Earth music.”  
  
“Tapes are extraordinarily out of date, Jim-”  
  
“-not an actual tape,” he said, anticipating what Spock would say. “I know my stuff’s old but it’s not 300 years old. Have you got your PADD? I can transfer a playlist onto there right now.”  
  
Spock gave him his PADD, and Jim transferred said music. They spent the next two hours working and asking each other questions concerning their homework, and then Spock said his goodbyes, notifying his parents that he was on his way home.  
  
Jim asked if he’d want to see him again the next day. Spock said he would, but only if they did more work. Jim was very quiet when he said goodbye and closed the door. Spock hoped he hadn’t offended him somehow- he often seemed to offend people without realising, and he especially didn’t want to upset Jim.  
  
His walk home went by far more quickly- in relative terms, of course- and when he arrived home he found his mother reading in the living room.  
  
“Hello Spock- how was your study session?”  
  
“Productive, thank you.”  
  
He began to make his way to his room, and she began to turn to her book again- but she stopped herself, looking back at Spock again. He looked away, feeling suddenly scrutinised.  
  
“Is there something on your mind, dear? You seem awfully thoughtful at the moment.”  
  
He looked back at her. He didn’t want to enlighten her of his suspicions for the reason for this behaviour. “I had not realised that I was acting in such a way- I apologise if it has caused you worry. I will be upstairs if you wish to find me.”  
  
He could feel his mother’s quizzical gaze following him up the stairs.  
  
He was just as confused as she was.


	9. Burning with Optimism's Flames (XTC)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim wakes up, having had quite a... an interesting dream.
> 
> Sorry to everyone who read the last chapter and noticed that I'd published it (sort of) twice. Whoops. Sorted now!

The room was hot. Way too hot.

He woke up, sitting upright, but he couldn’t remember ever dreaming, and he couldn’t remember how his room had gotten so big and so tidy and how all of his books had just disappeared

He wasn’t really aware of his own body really being there, though he assumed it was lying under his bed sheets- all that he was aware of was that there was someone in his room who wasn’t usually there, but he’d visited once before, he thought, maybe, in another time, in another world

And he was coming closer to where Jim was lying- or was he sitting?- and suddenly he knew who he was, with his pointy ears and pale green skin and marble carved face

He wasn’t sure how and when he’d got there but somehow he was in his room, and more than that he was sitting on the bed next to him and suddenly those black eyes- no, they were very dark brown, like chocolate- were right in front of him

“You have a fascinating collection of books,” he said.

“I don’t have any books anymore, I don’t know where they went, they’re usually in here,” he replied, because he was still confused about where he was because it didn’t feel like his room any more because nothing of his was there, it wasn’t really his room but at the same time he _felt_ that it was

“Are you here to work? I hope you’re here to see me as well because that would be pretty rude otherwise”

“I have more on my mind than work” Spock replied

“Oh really,” he replied, bringing him closer to him although he wasn’t really in control of anything that was happening right now, still enjoying it though

He felt heavy, which was probably because there was a Vulcan pinning him down but he didn’t know how this had happened or even when he’d got there, he couldn’t push him off but he wasn’t panicking, it felt comforting like being wrapped up in a duvet

His face was there, right in front of his but he couldn’t focus on it, like he was drunk, it kept _blurring_

But it was definitely him, the pointed eyebrows and everything, dark eyes meets blue meets hot meets cold meets sharp meets soft meets

“Why are you here”

“I am here for you”

“But no one ever is”

“Vulcans do not lie”

It was a voice he recognised but also didn’t recognise, low and feral and almost a growl as he pressed against him, everything going quickly but also painfully slowly like time didn’t exist, he was kissing down his throat and moving with him and Jim was panting, there was groaning but he couldn’t tell who’s it was and their bodies were moving, his leg was wrapped around his, freed hands scratching his back and-

Jim’s eyes snapped open.

At first he couldn’t move. After a few seconds he sat bolt up-right in his bed. In his own room. Abandoned coffee cups, posters, books and all. The sheets were twisted. The sun came in through the crack in his curtains. Yes. He was definitely awake this time.

_Oh God. Did I just…_

“Did I just have a sex dream about _Spock?”_ he asked out loud.

He had. That had definitely been Spock, pinning him down by his wrists, biting his neck and-

“Oh, fuck, no,” Jim shook his head violently.

It wasn’t like he’d never had a sex dream about random people before, or good friends, or whatever. It was just the fact that it was _Spock,_ it didn’t make any sense, and yet he wasn’t actually entirely horrified by the fact he’d dreamed of him in that scenario. It was the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about it, even as he peeled himself away from his sweaty sheets and threw his pyjamas across the room, throwing himself under a cold shower and banging his head against the tiles.

It hadn’t _really_ been Spock, though. Sure, it sort of was, but, with the way that dreams worked, it also wasn’t him. Except it kind of had been him, and Jim was struggling to rationalise himself out of the ridiculous boner he still had.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he muttered, rolling his head from side to side, his forehead still against the bathroom tiles, the cold water rolling down his back. Water dripped into his eyes from his hair.

Why was he getting so worked up about this? He’d had dreams about friends before. But then, this was Spock. He wasn’t just a friend. He was… Spock.

Oh Christ.

“Oh….” His eyes snapped open, even though it was painful because of the cold water and shampoo dripping down his face. It was a welcome sensation compared to the thoughts going through his head in that moment.

Unless, the reason he was so worked up and only just coming down from it all now was because he actually liked Spock? Like, _like_ liked Spock.

“Oh, no,” he groaned, standing up straight again, hands running through his hair, not so much to wash it through but in complete and utter distress. He shook his head. “No,” he said purposefully, as if it changed the fact that he was completely fucking head over heels for his bizarre Vulcan friend.

Several minutes of pacing later, wearing nothing but a towel, and Jim had to sit down carefully on the edge of his bed, letting a moment of clarity settle on him even though he wanted nothing less.

They spent practically all their time together. He seemed to see something in Spock that no one else did. He’d put himself in danger- _twice-_ on his behalf. He completely lost all ability to flirt or be clever or even remotely eloquent around him.

Jim was making him a freaking _mixed_ tape, for Gods sake.

He slowly lowered his face into his hands.

“ _Fuck_.”

Spock was so not his type. Although, come to think of it, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever had a specific type. But… the quiet Vulcan who wore turtle necks? No. He had not seen this coming, that was fair to say.

But what did that matter? This was Spock. He was important. He listened and asked and challenged and pushed him like no one else ever had. And at the same time, even with the exchanging of mix-tapes, school yard brawls and heated chess matches, Spock seemed to bring a wonderful level of normalcy to his life. He was the constant that he’d craved.

So… did that mean that that was the only reason he liked him? Was the only reason he got the whole butterflies and fireworks thing because Spock was there when no one else was? Did he just like him because he was there?

Jim didn’t have to think hard to answer that.

No. It was in the hidden secrets in his dark eyes, the little pouts and smiles he made when he thought no one was looking, the challenging little glares and examining glances, the way he tried to figure him out, the hands hidden behind his back, the calm exterior and everything that was lying behind it, the even pitch of his voice that often betrayed a level of humour that he picked up, and would send Bones flying off the handle. It was the way his eyes were warm, when he’d thought they were so hard and emotionless, at first. It was the fact that even from the beginning, when he didn’t know him at all, he’d been drawn to him, like they were meant to be at each other’s sides.

“ _Fuck.”_

  _  
_

“Look like you’ve seen a ghost, Jim.”

Bones was sitting in their spot, at the end of the pier near where he used to work. He had a paper bag with a bottle of something in it- probably bourbon. He’d picked drinking up from his dad, and his dad was not impressed with him. The sea breeze was making his hair stick up comically. He hadn’t turned round when Jim crept up behind him, but he’d known he was there, ruining Jim’s idea to make him jump in shock and fall in the river.

Jim took a seat beside him and took a swig of whatever was in the bag. He winced, wrapping himself up in his not particularly effective coat, even though it was cold as hell and the wind was going right through him.

“’m fine.”

“Then why are we here? Haven’t had one of our pier chats in a while, Jim.”

He stared out at the landscape around him. It was late afternoon, now, and there was an orange light burning the top of the roofs. There were broken hologram adverts flickering and resetting, stuck on a loop and jabbering on about hover-car insurance and the new brand of food replicators. This wasn’t a particularly nice part of town, but for Jim and Bones, it was around where they had first met, so none of that mattered. He looked up. There was a shuttle coming into the landing docks a way away. There would have been a time when airplanes left trails of smoke in the sky. Now, it was completely clear.

“You’d tell me if there was something, wouldn’t you?”

Jim sniffed. “Sure.”

There was a pause, before Bones sighed dramatically. “Go on, then, who is it?”

He just looked over the calm water, dangling his legs of the edge and wincing through the low sun. “Who’s what, Bones?”

“ _Don’t act dumb_ , you know exactly what I’m asking.”

He shook his head, twisting his lips into an innocent pout. “I dunno, Bones, really. Maybe you overestimate me.”

Bones snorted. “Fine. Don’t talk to me about it. I know that’s why we’re here, though. So either you could waste my time, or we could talk about what’s on your mind.”

Jim groaned and rolled his head back. “Do I have to, Bones?”

“Fine. I’m leaving. And I’m taking the bourbon-”

Jim grabbed his arm before he could leave. “Fine, Jesus, OK, I’ll talk, you grumpy bastard.”

“Hmm. That’s what I thought.” He settled back down again, eventually looking at Jim with a look that meant business. It was a rare expression that told him he was about to be sensitive and listen to Jim’s feelings without slapping him around the head for it, though Jim could never guarantee that wouldn’t happen, too.

Jim tilted his head from side to side in hesitation. “I’m… gonna need some of this first,” he said, grabbing the neck of the bourbon.

“Be my guest.”

It wasn’t good stuff. It made his throat burn. But that was sort of what he was looking for, right now.

“Right, well, you’re right. There is someone.”

Bones nodded, waiting. Jim hadn’t planned on really expanding. He never talked about personal stuff, even if his conversation with Spock the other day had indicated otherwise. How had he said so much? He’d just blabbered on about how he’d moved out and ended up at the docks, as if that was information he happily shared with everyone. Spock definitely had a way of getting the truth out of him. And then, they'd spent the whole weekend just... hanging out, working, listening to music, when by now Jim would've normally pushed him away after telling him that sort of stuff. He shook his head. His thoughts always seemed to go back to Spock.

“Well? You gonna indulge me, or are you just going to tell me what I already worked out for myself?”

His mouth twisted again, but this time in genuine hesitation and thought.

“It’s complicated.”

There was a snort from his right, though he wasn’t looking at Bones, just staring at the silhouettes of the bridges and buildings in the distance. “Fuck, Jim, when is it not complicated.”

“Some people seem to manage it. We did.”

“Yeah, and we worked out just great, didn’t we,” Bones laughed light-heartedly. Jim liked that they could joke about the thing they’d had when they first met.

“Good thing that didn’t last. Couldn’t get rid of you, though.”

“Sure couldn’t. I’m here to haunt you for the rest of your life. You weren’t even that good a kisser.”

His mouth hung open in devastated shock. “That is a _lie_.”

“Of _course_ it’s a lie, you know you’re good, you ass-hole, don’t act so defensive.”

“Hell yeah, I’m good.” He shook his head and looked back on those days. He may have been working on the docks and staying in a homeless shelter, and he might have met Bones in not particularly good circumstances- he’d been interning as the nurse at the shelter when Jim’d turned up with some bad wounds from a street brawl- but they’d been some of the best days of his life. And Bones had been good to him. He always had been. Still was.

He sighed. “Why’d we break up?”

Bones laughed quietly to himself as he took the bottle from Jim. “My father chasing you out of the house with a shotgun when you were only wearing your boxers might’ve had somethin’ to do with it, honey.”

Jim laughed, a genuine laugh that he was growing more used to hearing himself make, now after all these years.

“God, that was hilarious.”

“The neighbours seemed to think so, too.”

“I love that,” he laughed, wiping away the tears, “you’re dad protecting his little southern belle’s virtue.”

“He’s an old fashioned man. I wasn’t married yet.”

“And hopefully you won’t be for a while yet, Bones.”

“Depends on whether dad’s found me an eligible young bachelor."

“I’ll fight you for them.”

“No you won’t,” he said with a smug smile, swinging his legs happily to-and-fro, “cause you like someone else.”

Jim groaned. “Stop it, Bones.”

There was a pause, and the sound of drink sloshing in a half empty bottle. “Haven’t seen you this conflicted about someone since Gary, Jim.”

He scowled. “God, no. Not that kind of conflicted. This guy’s not an ass-hole.” Spock was definitely not like Gary.

“So it’s a guy. That narrows it down nicely.”

Jim sighed. The water beneath him was orange like the sky. It looked like if he dropped into it, it would be hot. It wouldn’t be. It was the middle of November- the water would be freezing. He’d still prefer to be in there than this conversation.

“His dad doesn’t want him to see me. He probably trusts that he’s taking his advice and avoiding me outside of physics, considering the kind of people they are. Lying isn’t a thing they do. But he’s still coming to see me and I’m letting him, I’m-” he shook his head. “I’m not allowed to like him. I can’t let it happen.”

“Or what?”

He looked at him like he was stupid. “Or he’ll get into trouble with his dad, Bones.

“That’s his decision, Jim, not yours.”

He shook his head. “No. I get a say in it, too. I could tell him to back off.”

“And what good’ll that do? What good did that do with me?”

“We ended up best friends.”

“Sure. But you can’t push everyone away because you think it’s going to kill them, Jim.” That hurt. But that was why Bones was good at this sort of thing- he didn’t fuck around. It still made him want to run away and smash that stupid bottle of shitty bourbon on floor and never see him again, though. “If this guy wants to take a risk by seeing you, you don’t get to change his mind for him. He gets to decide whether it’s worth it or not, because God knows you’ll never think you’re worth it. If you push him away because you don’t think you’re worth it then you’ll really just be stuck with me forever.”

He exhaled, staring at his blurred reflection. “Jeeze, say it like you mean it, Bones.”

“’s why you love me, Jim boy.”

“Oh no- how much have you had?”

“What d’you mean?”

“You’re southern accent is coming out and you only call me Jim boy when your drunk. Gimme that.”

“Noooo,” Bones moaned. Bones pried the bottle away.

“Don’t pick this up as a habit, Bones.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, you little brat.”

“What, so you can throw my problems in my face, but I can’t return the favour?”

“Um, yes. That’s my role in this relationship.”

“Oh. Real nice, Bones.”

He did have a point, though. He would always push people away like this. As soon as someone got close to him, he’d crave their company, but… he could never handle the anxiety of having them around him. His father had died for him, and no one had ever let him forget it. His mother had died for him and his brother. And his brother had put his life on the line to protect him on Tarsus IV. And then, when he couldn’t handle being around him anymore- too many memories, Jim knew that was why, it wasn’t because he didn’t love him, but it still left him feeling empty- when he couldn’t see Jim without seeing corpses and empty food storage rooms, he’d left him in Uncle Frank’s custody. And Frank had never given a shit. Anyone who did care got hurt. Or worse, killed.

He couldn’t do that to Spock.

But then… as much as he was terrified of hurting him, he needed him. He was that constant. He needed him to stay, not just because Jim needed something to rely on, but because it was Spock. He needed _him, specifically_. How could he not? It was Spock, everything about him was amazing.

God, he was in deep. How had he not noticed this from the beginning?

“So, go on then. Who is it?”

As much as Bones could be insightful, he could be equally oblivious.

Jim sighed, cleared his throat, and rubbed the back of his neck before he answered.

“Spock.”

“ _SPOCK? That_ pointy eared bastard?”

Jim couldn’t help but laugh, his eyes closed. “Yes, Bones, that pointy eared bastard,” he said wearily.

“But… he’s Vulcan.”

“Racist, Bones.”

“Not racist, realistic. You’re real handsy, Jim, how do you think Spock would deal with that sort of thing? You really think you’d work?”

“Haven’t really thought that far, Bones.” He honestly hadn’t thought about it actually _happening_ \- he’d figured it would be doomed before it even started. Spock would never go for an idiot like him. He’d gotten him into so much shit already… how could he possibly want to be with him? He should hate him, logically. He hated himself, sometimes, for messing up Spock’s perfectly organised life that day he’d bumbled in and ‘bravely’ defended him against Finnegan.

Of course, he’d do it all again, if it meant keeping Spock unharmed. But still, he cringed every time he thought about it.

“So. You and Spock, huh?” He started laughing almost hysterically.

“No- no! Stop it Bones. You say it like we’re a thing, we’re not a thing, I just…”

_Like him a lot._

Bones was bent over double now, silently laughing.

“Why is it so _funny,_ Bones?” he was actually getting pretty pissed, by this point. What the hell was wrong with Spock? He’d fight him on this.

“It’s just- I’m sorry.” He wiped away a tear. Jim crossed his arms and waited for him to continue patiently, like a teacher. “It’s just, it’s _Spock._ He’s the most awkward being alive. And you might be a smooth talker but you’re awkward as hell, too. The two of you would be the most catastrophic couple on the planet.”

Jim was speechless.

“OK, OK, I take it back- I’m sure you’d be a perfectly functional pair.”

“Why do you keep talking like we’re _going_ to be a couple? I’ve already told you, I’m not letting this… _thing_ go any further.”

The smile melted from Bones’ face, and with a blink, he was back to his normal resting bitch face. “Do I need to repeat myself, Jim? Stop making yourself miserable. It’s not an attractive feature.”

Jim snorted. “Says the king of wallowing.”

“No, I’m _grumpy_ , not _miserable_. There’s a subtle difference,” he said clearly, like he was comparing two fine wines.

“OK. Fine.”

There was a long pause. Jim took a large gulp of bourbon.

“You don’t get to decide whether he has feelings for you or not. I know you think you’re being all heroic like by ignoring your feelings and pushing him away, but actually it’s selfish as all hell.” Jim opened his mouth to complain and Bones held up his hand to stop him. Somehow, it worked. Occasionally, Bones got the last word, and it was always in situations like this. If Jim was injured, or going to do something stupid, of course, he’d ignore Bones. But there were certain situations were Bones seemed to have the upper hand. “You don’t get to assume. Especially not with that boy- he’s a complicated one, Spock. I can’t imagine anyone knows what’s going on in his head, even himself.

“And another thing-” Jim sighed and looked the other direction, where there was an evening tourist boat docking in the distance. “- what makes you think that other people get to be more happy than you? Why shouldn’t you indulge in a little flirtation and fleeting glances and butterflies? Worst case scenario, he doesn’t like you back, you get over him. He’s not going to drop dead because some blue-eyed dipshit from Iowa’s crushing on him.”

“It’s not that _simple_ -”

“It _is_ that simple. You don’t even want to try and be happy with someone. What would you say to me if I up and decided that I wouldn’t give anyone a chance, because I wasn’t worth it? You’d tell me to get a grip and stop being an idiot because I deserve to be happy, right? Well, what makes you any different? You special little fucking snow flake.”

If only Bones _knew_ why he was like this. Perhaps he wouldn’t have said all those things. Didn’t mean he didn’t need to hear it anyway, no matter what had fucked him up this bad. Thinking about it, Jim reckoned Bones would’ve had said all of it anyways, even if he had known about his mom and brother.

“You know that not everyone _can_ just feel that way about themselves. You know that some people aren’t wired that way.”

The people were disembarking the boat, now. The sky was going purple.

“Of course I do, Jim. You know tough love is how I role… I just, I know that you act all confident, and you can be the most arrogant boy on the planet, but of course you’re more complicated than that. And I’m not gonna ask you to tell me why. All I know is that you could be happy. And I think it’s unfair on Spock for you to just assume that he doesn’t care for you in return.” He sighed. “And I’m sorry for calling you a special little snow flake.”

Jim loved Bones. With all his broken heart. “A special little _fucking_ snow flake.”

“A special little fucking snow flake,” he repeated, nodding wearily.

“’S OK. And thanks for the pep talk.”

“No problem. Just, don’t tell me the details of it all, OK? By all means, go crazy with the day dreaming and fantasizing and butterflies, just… I don’t wanna know, OK Jim?”

A bubble of laughter erupted from his mouth. He didn’t know where it’d come from, since he was feeling pretty anxious about the whole situation still. But he guessed that… Bones was right. He could go along with this, for now. First, he’d assumed that Spock had no emotions, then he’d assumed that he’d needed his help with Finnegan- he’d assumed too much. Perhaps this was just the same. Perhaps he should just… try and relax about it all. It wasn’t any different from any other crush he’d had.

Except, it was. And he knew it was.

“Fine, I won’t tell you any of it. Not even the sex dream I had last night-”

“No, no- now that’s exactly what I meant by the stuff I did _not_ want to know about, Jim.”

“-or how the way he talks about logic makes me all _tingly inside-”  
_

“Stop, for the love of God, stop-”

It was fun teasing Bones. And joking about Spock made him feel like this was all just a silly phase that would soon pass. No one would get hurt. No hearts would be broken. And he'd end up alone again, lying in his one room apartment asleep on his physics books.

 


	10. Lucy (Divine Comedy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock and Amanda talk.

Since that weekend he had spent with Jim, working and talking and listening to music, he had successfully managed to continue with the rest of his life as per usual. Or at least, whatever was usual for his life, nowadays- he would spend most of his lessons concentrating on the teacher’s words, or instant messaging Jim when they were both already aware of the topic at hand. He would spend his lunch time with Jim and the others. He would use his free periods to do his homework, and sometimes play chess with Jim. He had won their first game, but Jim took the second. The third would be won by him, he was almost certain.

Now that he thought about it, as he left the building, hands behind his back and eyes looking distantly ahead, he spent the majority of his time at school with Jim. He also spent much of his time out of school with him, now. Clearly, his father’s instructions to avoid him when possible were now completely redundant; there was no point in him trying to fix this problem now. Jim’s presence in his daily schedule, in his thoughts, seemed perfectly natural, now. To fight against it was illogical.

That’s when he heard him.

It was a Wednesday, so the school mechanics club was running after the day’s lessons. Over the sound of Sulu and Chekov bickering playfully, over the sound of Kevin Riley singing some unnamed Irish folk song, Jim’s voice reached Spock’s ears first. He was trying to get Sulu’s attention, who seemed to be engrossed in what Spock could now recognise, unmistakably, as flirting. A dirty hand waved from underneath the partially built hover-car, grabbing at the ground as if trying to reach the tool box. It would have been easier for him to roll out from under the car and find it himself, but Jim was not the type to make things easy for anyone.

It only made sense to go and help him, so Spock dropped his initial plan to go straight home and revise the development of duotritacale, instead making his way to the detached, grappling hand, fighting a strong urge to smile.

He found a spot in the floor which wasn’t covered in dirt and kneeled down beside the car.

“Sulu! _Sulu! Stop_ flirting with Chekov and- oh, fuck’s sake, never mind…”

“What is it you are looking for, Jim?”

The hand froze rather comically.

“Spock?” It seemed to say.

“Yes.”

“What’re you doing here?” he asked. He sounded rather more cautious than usual.

 “I heard you struggling. What do you require?”

 Jim didn’t respond at first.

“… the 1.5 wrench.”

Spock leaned over the tool-box, which had clearly been out of Jim’s reach, and picked out the object which Jim had asked for. He held one end, so that there was no risk of Jim accidentally grabbing his hand.

“Thanks- I’ll be out in just a second, just- need to fix this-” Spock could hear his laboured breathing as he exerted the sufficient strength needed to fix whatever he was doing. “-done.”

He rolled out from underneath the car. He was _filthy._

His face was dappled with dark smudges which seemed to make his eyes even bluer; Spock was amazed by how dirty he had managed to get himself, considering that 23rd century vehicles had advanced far beyond the use of oil. However, Jim had still managed to cover himself in black blotches, his hair was messed up, and his forehead and arms were covered with a faint sheen of sweat. Dirty things were generally avoided, abhorred, and yet Spock found that the image wasn’t entirely unattractive, somehow. Perhaps it was the way the dirt made his hair seem more golden, his eyes brighter, made his smile seem more endearing. He stood up and Spock followed his actions. Jimstretched, arching his back so that his originally white, but now dark grey t-shirt rose up. It was hard to ignore, but Spock did his best, looking back at his face again.

“Like what you see, Spock?”

If Jim had intended this act of flirtation as a joke, Spock found himself entirely unamused, and strangely, very embarrassed. If he had not been joking, then-

He did not- _would_ not dwell on such a thought. It was ludicrous, that Jim would flirt with him because he harboured romantic feelings towards him. He responded, then, with a characteristic raised eyebrow, which he hoped conveyed his distaste.

Jim laughed and looked away, kicking at the ground aimlessly. “Yeah, anyway… I know I look kinda gross right now- that’s what happens when you’re trying to build a hover-car _by yourself_.” He looked pointedly at Sulu and Chekov, who seemed happy to ignore him.

“Where are Scott and Uhura?”

Jim shrugged. “Yeah, I have no idea where they’ve disappeared to. They seem to be hanging out a lot at the moment, though.”

Spock thought about this. Jim was right- he’d noticed that Uhura and Scotty now sat next to each other every day at lunch, would talk to each other in private in class, just as he and Jim would themselves.

There was a long pause before either of them said anything else, and for some reason Jim wouldn’t look at Spock during this time, instead watching his shoes kick dust up from the ground.

“Jim, are you well?”

He laughed quietly to himself, still avoiding eye contact, Spock noted. “Yeah! Yeah, sorry- just tired, I guess. I’ve, er… got a lot on my mind. Anyway,” he said abruptly, shaking his head. “I actually, um, have something for you.”

Spock could feel his eyebrows raise in surprise as Jim disappeared behind the hover-car, a few moments returning with a small tablet.

“Ok, so I know I could have technically just messaged this to you, but I thought having a hard copy would be cooler, so, yeah. Here you go.”

Spock removed a hand from behind his back and took the tablet. It read ‘Jim’s mix-tape- 2249 :)’.

“It has that song I showed you on Saturday on there, and…um… a few others too.” Spock had noticed that Jim had a habit of hesitating between words when he was either nervous or articulating something important. He was uncertain why he was displaying such behaviour now.

In such a case, it was polite for Spock to show his gratitude, since the gift clearly meant something to Jim- and so, naturally, it meant something of a great deal to Spock, too. “Thank you.”

When he finally looked at him, Jim smiled as if he hadn’t expected Spock’s words, as if he’d never heard anyone say them to him before. It was a bright, child like smile that made his chest tight.

“You’re welcome, Spock… hey, um, want to maybe go over some physics after I’m done?”

Spock blinked and looked away. Now, apparently, he was avoiding eye contact.

“I regrettably must attend to my homework. After our chess match today during our free period, I must use my time this evening for our biology assignment.”

“Oh, yeah, no problem- sorry for stealing all your free time.”

It made sense for Jim to apologise, by Human societal customs- and yet Spock found that it made no sense at all for him to apologise for spending time with him. “Your apology is unnecessary.”

He nodded and looked down at his feet again, sliding his hands in into his jean pockets. Spock looked at the small tablet in his hands, wiping away his fingerprints from the screen with his thumb. Others would say he was fidgeting; he would say that such a habit was not one he indulged in. It would have been logical for Spock to say his goodbyes and leave at this point, since neither boy had anything more to say- and yet there was something which held them both there in that moment, neither one looking at the other, yet acknowledging and craving each other’s presence. It was tense, unsettling, yet simultaneously comfortable.

“Um… so, I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess? I think Uhura and Gaila and the others are going to the diner after school, so I’ll probably be there if you wanna come too.”

Spock gave a small nod. He found that he didn’t want to say goodbye to that muddy face and mischievous smile.

“Cool. I’m gonna-” he indicated towards the car and drifted slowly back towards it, rubbing the back of his neck (a sign of awkwardness, Spock had learned), turning to watch him go three times- though Spock never saw that. 

 

 

Amanda, as ever, greeted him as he returned home. Sarek was still at the embassy. Spock went straight upstairs to his room to inspect Jim’s gift.

He sat cross-legged on his bed and took out the tablet from his bag, laying it on the covers in front of him, just looking at it. For some inexplicable reason, he was nervous to listen to it. What about this gift could possibly make him anxious? Perhaps it was because Spock had not given Jim anything in return. Perhaps it was because Jim was clearly hesitant himself to give him this small, harmless tablet. Perhaps it was because Spock’s feelings were not what he thought they were- whatever gesture Jim made, no matter how small, seemed to be magnified in his mind and overshadow everything else that happened during the day. This mix-tape had somehow overwhelmed him, to the point that he was now reverently looking down at it, as if waiting for it to do something out of the ordinary, as was so often the case with Jim.

If this was what it meant to be friends with someone, Spock decided that it required much more emotional turbulence than he had anticipated or had been prepared for- unless what he was experiencing was more than friendship.

Rather than dwelling on this rather unsettling thought, Spock decided that his hesitance was unwarranted, illogical, and tapped the screen of the tablet. It burst into a list of at 25 songs, each with a small description in Jim’s almost illegible handwriting.

The first one read like so:

_This is the one I let you listen to the other day, and it’s completely awesome. They’ve sort of made a comeback recently (and before you ask, I don’t know why 1980s music is so big at the moment- society’s weird that way. Remember when we were 10/11 and it was cool to wear that weird stuff from the 2150s, velour and everything? Cause I do, and I regret it)_

A small smile crept up on him, and he allowed it, since no one was there to witness it. He played the second song.

Edvard Grieg- (Nocturne) op.54 no.4: _We’re going way back now- a bit of_ real _classical music. I was gonna put Debussy on but I thought you might be more of a Grieg man. My Dad used to listen to him a lot._

He listened to the next song, and then the next, then the next- each was different to the other, always interesting. The list was eclectic, a complex, contradictory myriad of emotions which could only ever be exist in one place when Jim Kirk was involved. Every song had a story. One reminded Jim of his childhood, when he and his brother would listen to the radio together. Another was the song he’d had ‘stuck in his head’ on the day they’d first met. One of them was a song Spock recognised, since Jim and Scott often sang it together (perhaps ‘shouted’ would be a better term). It occurred to Spock that this mix tape was indeed a particularly personal gift from Jim.

He picked up the tablet and cradled it in his hands, as if it might break it he were not absolutely careful. This was precious.

For all the times Jim had made him angry, furious even, he also had the capacity to leave him in quiet awe. He was the most infuriating person he had ever met- more so that McCoy, even- but Spock reckoned that this was largely because he was so complicated, and Spock just could _not_ work him out. And that was quite frightening, but also wonderful. Jim was arrogant, reckless, sometimes thoughtless, but he was also capable of such kindness that Spock had never seen before. He had reached out when no one else would. Since that time, Spock had befriended some very strange individuals. He had been involved in a school yard fight, been put in detention, ignored his father’s advice, and suffered great emotional turbulence. But as he held the tablet in his hand, he knew that he regretted none of it.

Why? Why should he care so much about James Tiberius Kirk? Why did these moments matter so much to Spock? Why was the complex puzzle that was Jim Kirk intrigue him so?

Well, he was a puzzle. A difficult one, at that, so naturally Spock would be intrigued.

But it wasn’t just intrigue, fascination, no- it was something more. He genuinely, whole heartedly, irreversibly cared for Jim, and he was beginning to doubt that it was in a way that could be easily defined as friendship.

But _why,_ he thought, a tight pain around his heart developing the more he thought about it. He did not want to think about it. He could not truly consider what his mind was implying, he could not let it happen-

Why had this one boy changed his perfectly organised life? What gave him the right to change everything he ever knew about himself, everything he knew to be true? He’d once had control of his emotions, but from the first moment he’d met him, that control disappeared. What had Jim Kirk done to him?

He’d infiltrated his life, his mind, he was seeping into his every thought, and Spock had no idea how he had done it. He had broken all sense of routine, all sense of normalcy, challenged the way he viewed his father, viewed himself, viewed Human beings- and now, he could not think of him without that painful heat tightening around his heart, without feeling the urge to smile and sigh in frustration simultaneously.

What gave him the _right?_

What was it about Jim Kirk that made Spock feel so… much?

Perhaps it was the way he pushed him beyond everything he knew, with simply the lilt of his voice or a carefree laugh. Perhaps it was the way he was overbearingly bright, bright enough to blind everyone else from the darkness, the sadness he hid behind all of the smiles and bravado. Or the way he wanted to touch Spock, he could tell, show affection through the touch of his arm or an embrace, but would not for Spock’s sake, because he cared too. Or maybe the element of peace, the stillness that he pervaded, whilst an undercurrent of anger and fear and anxiety seemed to hum beneath it all, Spock could sense it though never challenged it. Or the way he made Spock try things, enjoy things that he never expected, brought actual _happiness_ into his life that made him realise that he’d never truly experienced it before. He made him feel at home.

And there was his lips, the way they distracted him when he spoke though he didn’t know why. The way that Spock couldn’t _not_ look when Jim would bite his lower lip when he was in a particularly pensive mood. Or perhaps the way he smirked at Spock, like they were sharing some secret that he was not aware of, passing each other knowing looks whenever they were together. Or the way he could be so exuberant, but so quiet, too, as he sat there in lessons thoughtfully (when he wasn’t ‘doodling’).

Most of all, it was the way he looked at him, and how every time he did, it felt like Jim was the main character of a play, finding Spock’s face amongst an audience, choosing him out of everyone. It made him feel frightened and overwhelmed with joy all at once

There was a light knock on his door. He hadn’t heard mother come up stairs, which was unusual. He had heightened Vulcan hearing, so he should have done. His mental barriers were clearly diminished, if he could be so easily distracted by his own thoughts.

“Spock? May I come in?”

Should he hide the tablet? Pretend that he had been working?

No. He could avoid telling the truth to his father, if the situation arose. He could not do the same his mother. He paused the song.

“Yes.”

The door opened and his mother appeared, a quiet smile in her eyes. She held her hands delicately in front of her. She sat opposite Spock. It was unusual for mother to visit him like this; she knew that he was usually working and required no interruptions. But now she sat there, almost smiling, and it appeared like she was waiting for Spock to say something.

“I hope you don’t mind, Spock, but I heard a song coming from your room that I used to listen to a lot when I was… well, about your age. It was quite a surprise for me to hear it, I thought I’d come and investigate.”

He swallowed. Would he have to explain why he’d been listening to it, where it had come from? He did not want to lie, and it seemed like he didn’t have much choice but to tell the truth. But the warmth in his mother’s eyes told him that there wasn’t anything to be anxious about.

He nodded once. “A friend of mine is determined to introduce me to Earth music.”

Her eyes squinted slightly, as if she were holding back a laugh. “I see. And, do you like it?”

“It is… very varied.”

“Yes, it is.” Her gaze fell upon the tablet. “May I?”

If she took the tablet, then she’d see the mix-tape. And she’s see that it was created by Jim, the boy he was supposedly avoiding.

“Yes.”

She took it and flicked through the songs. It was very unlikely that she had not seen the title, ‘Jim’s mix-tape- 2249 :)’. And yet she continued to peruse, expression unchanged, unsurprised. Spock watched closely for any  any disappointment, which he would most likely find in his father if he had found such an item. But none such expression came. She had known all along, then.

“Here it is,” she said. “Do you mind if I play it? It’s been such a long time since I’ve heard it properly.” Spock nodded, a little taken aback by the whole scenario. This was the most he had seen his mother ‘open up’ around him since he was a child. The song began and a genuine smile appeared on her face. “This came out the year I turned 17. It played everywhere you went.”

Her eyes met his, dark brown, just like his own.

“I know that we’ve never had the sort of relationship where we tell each other things, and I understand that you don’t like coming to me for help. But, I hope you know, Spock, that if you ever need to talk to me about anything at all, you can.”

His mother was astute. She had, of course, noticed that he had not been entirely himself recently. She had not offered her support like this since he was a child and had been bullied by the other Vulcan children. Spock appreciated her offer, but, as she had already mentioned, he did not like asking for help. He did not think he needed help, either. And he felt that he did not want to share this problem with anyone, especially not his mother. There was one thing, however, which he did want to know. 

“Will you tell father?” 

She placed the tablet back on the bed, the music seeming suddenly distant to Spock’s ears. 

“Eventually, yes. But you will tell him first, I hope.” She looked at him sternly now, and he found he could not return his gaze. “I cannot withhold the truth from your father, you know that, Spock.”

“Yes.”

She sighed, a habit she rarely exhibited around him and his father. “However… for now, I’ll only respond to what I’m asked. If you and James Kirk continue to be friends, and you do not tell your father the truth eventually, I will tell him myself. Is that understood?”

Spock nodded.

“I trust you to handle this properly, Spock.”

“You disapprove of my actions.”

It was a rather defensive reaction to his mother’s words, one he had not anticipated. Her eyebrow raised a little, an expression Jim told him he also often used.

“I disapprove of lying. Tell him once you and James have finished your project together. Does that seem right to you?”

Spock nodded once, looking at her now that he had found the courage to.

“I fear that he… will not understand.”

There was a real smile again, spreading across her face. “I daresay your father will understand more than you think.”

He did not know what that meant. But he was pleased to see that his mother smiling. And he was happy that their relationship remained intact, or perhaps even improved, after the short conversation. She got up to leave the room, her dress and scarves flowing as she walked. Even when she moved, as she did now, there was a wonderful sense of stillness that followed his mother that instantly made him feel calm, in control. And in that moment, although she had just found out that he had been secretly keeping in touch with the boy his father had forbidden him to see, he felt calm as he watched her leave. She paused before she opened the door.

“Spock- just, answer me two things.”

He waited for her to expand.

“Are you happy, and are you safe?” 

Jim was reckless. And he seemed to enjoy putting himself in potentially dangerous situations. But, so far, he had never endangered Spock. He’d made his life far more difficult, and far less organized, that was certain- but those changes had not harmed Spock, not really. The only danger to his safety Spock could think of was his confrontation with Finnegan, and that would have happened eventually, if Jim had not intervened. In fact, the boy seemed determined, more than practically anyone else, to keep him safe.

For what reason, he did not know, but at least he knew how to answer his mother.

“Yes.”  
  
There was no point in expanding any further. His mother paused for a few moments longer, nodding to herself before closing the door behind her. Music continued to play distantly in the background.

Spock had not been expecting such a conversation. At least it was, thankfully, brief. He had not anticipated any need for one, since he had only begun to understand the true meaning of his feelings and actions moments before his mother had entered the room. Now that it was over, he was glad that he had been verbally economic; there was still much for him to consider.

He was also glad that he had spoken to his mother about the matter so early on, rather than hide the truth of him and Jim’s friendship from her. There was still a feeling of discomfort teasing the back of his mind, however, reminding him that his father did not know, that he must know soon but would never approve. Until now, there had been little that he felt needed to hide from his parents which was not already obvious to them. In this instance, though, he seemed particularly reluctant to tell them anything about his relationship with Jim- which indicated even further that it was more complicated, more personal than friendship. Although Spock realised this, he still did not enjoy withholding the truth from his father.

But, it was as he had already told himself; he had warned him to avoid him when possible, and Spock had tried- and discovered that he found it impossible to avoid him. There seemed to be no way around it; Jim Kirk had seeped into so much of his life now, that whenever he did anything, he would wonder what it would be like if he were with him to keep him company.

It was a bizarre, alien sensation that he had never felt before. As someone who did not crave company, to suddenly feel the need for the presence of a particular person was strange, and rather unsettling. It was not Vulcan, but indisputably Human.

Perhaps that was not such a bad thing. To honour one half of his heritage and stubbornly ignore the other was not logical; it was possible that he had been approaching his humanity incorrectly this whole time. After all, there could not be so much wrong with being Human, if humanity provided such examples as Jim Kirk.

He thought about how the boy lived alone, yet managed to go to school and provide for himself. Spock wondered if Jim felt lonely living such a life, since he enjoyed being around people so much at school. He wondered what had happened to his family, how he had survived, how he survived now. He was a truly remarkable person.

The rest of the day passed by as it usually did, finishing homework and reading ahead of schedule- but with the pleasant backdrop of Earth music provided by Jim’s playlist, as if to remind Spock that whatever he did, Jim would always be there in his thoughts.

 


	11. Young American (David Bowie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim has forgotten how to flirt.

Ordinarily, meeting up with the gang in the diner was enjoyable. Ordinarily, Jim loved play flirting with Gaila, having philosophical conversations with Uhura, teasing Bones- it was fun. Especially when Spock was there.

But now, with Scotty- trying and desperately failing to flirt with Uhura- Bones, Christine, and Gaila talking something interesting and biology related, he was struggling to join in. It was taking all his effort not to look at Spock, as he quietly listened to their conversation, not looking at him once.

Jim’s eyes were fixed on the ice-cubes bobbing around in his drink. Normally the life of the party, it felt all wrong to have his head this much in a jumble and sit there so quietly. At first, he’d tried his usual tactic of making joking flirty comments, stretching seductively so his shirt would ride up ‘accidentally’, smirking, batting his eye-lashes, being his generally outgoing self- saying stuff that pissed Bones off and so naturally make Spock happy- but when he realised that his normal tricks might not necessarily work with Spock, and that he wouldn’t show it even if they did, he felt the need to suddenly not be there anymore. Disappear, be sucked up into the ground maybe. With most of the people he’d dated, he’d lured them in by being loud, boisterous, verging on the annoying side- he agreed with Bones on that part- but with Spock… well, he didn’t’ know what to do.

Should he even be trying? He’d ask himself, but then he’d be reminded of his conversation with Bones and decide ignoring the opportunity to date someone actually _nice_ would be stupid. And Spock was nice. Really nice. If you got to know him well, but no one else but him and the gang seemed eager to try.

 _Get a grip, Kirk,_ he told himself, swirling the ice in his glass around with his straw. He knew that people would notice he’d gone quiet. Of course, it did happen occasionally that he’d have nothing to say and sit happily and listen to the conversation, but it wasn’t entirely normal. And he was really hoping it wasn’t obvious that he was intentionally not looking at Spock.

He could still hear him, though. That, he couldn’t ignore; his voice was clipped and sarcastic as he reprimanded Bones for saying something illogical, and he couldn’t help but smile as the two began another pointless, heated argument, that neither would admit they loved doing.

And it was before he could stop himself that he looked up- he had his classic bitch face on, that raised eyebrow and condescending tilted head, and he could hear Bones’ voice grating in his ear beside him but he wasn’t listening because he was too preoccupied by watching Spock speak, see him _almost_ roll his eyes at Bones’ response, his eyebrows knitting into a small frown. Now that he was really looking at him ( _stop it, STOP IT_ he told himself) he noticed that his olive toned skin was in fact a tiny bit green, which made sense considering what he knew about Vulcan anatomy. And now he was tilting his head slightly again, just enough that you could see the sharp curve of his cheekbone, his eyes were dark and challenging and suddenly he was reminded of that dream he’d had the other night-

 _NOPE,_ he thought adamantly. He could not think about that now. Not here, not anwhere. That was not happening-

But oh _shit,_ he hadn’t realised how long he’d been looking and Spock must have noticed because now he was looking at him, and a jolt of surprise and heat ran down his spine and into his stomach, so that he was suddenly a bag of nerves, the intensity in Spock’s eyes from his argument with Bones not making things any better.

His eyes snapped back to his drink instantly and he began stirring his ice around awkwardly, laughing at his two friends as if he’d been listening to their argument, since he usually derived a lot of pleasure from it.

He tried to tune in to something else. The sound of the chef ringing the bell, shouting “order up!”, or the waitresses rattling off the orders they’d written down on their notepads, the kids on the other table who’d just come back from football and were talking about their practice, the mother with her three children, trying to tell them “no, you can’t have extra fries”. The distant sound of the week’s top ten songs in the charts playing in the background, chairs grinding against the floor was people were leaving.

But it was so much more interesting, so much _nicer_ to listen to Spock talking, and somehow the sound seemed to come out on top of everything else going on around him.

Boy, he was in _really_ deep, wasn’t he?

It scared him. He hadn’t felt this… addicted to someone since Gary, and that had not ended well. He knew that there was a way to avoid getting hurt again like that, and he knew it was to ignore all of this, disconnect himself from feeling anything for Spock and just pretend like he didn’t care. It would hurt Spock, but it would be better for everyone in the end.

But even if he had never had that talk with Bones, he knew now that doing that wasn’t possible. Because, somehow, the heat in his stomach, the happiness he felt when he was with him, the fact that he was always on his mind- it wasn’t what he usually experienced. It made no sense to him, but there seemed to be some deeper connection happening between them that he couldn't ignore and he hoped, prayed, Spock could feel too.

If he didn’t, he would be prepared.

He’d made him a mix tape. A _mix tape. Could_ he protect himself if it ended up that nothing could happen? He was already in too deep. Since that morning he’d woken up- no, it had been longer than that, he realised- he’d been in too deep. He’d jumped into the deep end the moment he made friends with him that day, punched him on the arm, and left him standing there in the school corridor in bewilderment.

And now he couldn’t not look at him, not listen to him, without some stupid needy voice in his head whining at him. This wasn’t normal for him. He could get by doing anything by himself, he didn’t _need_ to be with anyone. And yet, Spock was on his mind in the morning when he got up, on his bike ride to school, in his lectures, his journey home, now- and he didn’t even have the decency to hide it.

What had Spock _done_ to him?

He felt a sharp jab on his leg under the table. Bones was trying to get his attention. He looked at him, and a silent questioning gaze looked back at him. So Jim smiled happily, hoping Bones couldn’t read through it. He rolled his eyes and went back to his conversation, so he probably had seen right through it.

The idea that Spock might know that he liked him suddenly hit him. He couldn’t know, at least, not yet, not until he’d made himself completely irresistible and worked out what the hell charmed a Vulcan. Right now, all he could do was stir around his damn ice, throwing the occasional charming smile and confident laugh for good measure, because goddamn, he must look miserable otherwise.

How was he going to do this? How was he supposed to try and see where his feelings went, if he couldn’t flirt like usual around Spock? What if he turned into Bones, or Scotty, and started pining after people without being able to say a single charming word? He almost winced at the idea. He’d once heard Scott trying to flirt.

" _So… Carolyn…d’yeh like engines?”_

No. That wouldn’t happen to him. It couldn’t.

He had done so well looking after himself till now, pretending he was OK even when he wasn’t. But apparently, all it took to ruin that was one socially awkward Vulcan teenager.

“Oh, don’t worry about him, Spock. He’s fine.”

Oh god, so Spock had noticed that something, then. He was looking at him quizzically, definitely a little concerned, too, which made Jim feel good, even though that made no sense.

“Hmm? Yes, absolutely fine.”

“You are unusually quiet.”

He still couldn’t look at him. He couldn’t face the onslaught of ridiculous feelings it gave him. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t love feeling that way- head over heels, constantly daydreaming about someone- but he just couldn’t deal with that right now. Not with Spock right there. The fact that Spock even made him feel so hot under the collar still confused him a little, if Jim was honest.

“Am I?” he asked innocently.

When Bones put his arm around Jim’s shoulders, he was instantly filled with suspicion. Spock narrowed his eyes, apparently feeling equally cynical about Bones’ behaviour.

“Now Spock- Jim’s going through something that us Humans call _puberty._ You know- strange feelings, growth-spurts, amongst other things-”

Uhura started giggling, Gaila grinning childishly. Christine rolled her eyes affectionately, Scotty cackling away unreservedly. Jim slowly lowered his forehead to the table so he wouldn’t have to look at anyone, ever again.

“Do you want to die, Bones? Because I know people who can do that for me.” His nose was squished uncomfortably against the table, wet from the condensation of his glass. It was better than seeing whatever horrified, embarrassed expression Spock was donning right now.

You know what he usually would have done? He would have laughed it off and said ‘Oh, Bones, you,’ and waved a dismissive hand at his stupid comments. That would have made him seem less like he was too embarrassed to admit that Bones was sort of, a little bit right, and the fact that he had an enormous crush on Spock _was_ kinda because he was a teenager. But, nope- it looked like today was his day for functioning like a normal human being.

“’M shaking in my boots.”

“I would like to formally announce that I’m actually just feeling particularly thoughtful today,” he mumbled against the table. “Is that allowed?” he added, rather defensively.

“Oooh,” Scotty teased, “someone’s moody today.”

“No doubt those _Human hormones,”_ Bones replied professionally.

He felt an affectionate hand stroking his hair. Gaila’s. Of course it wasn’t Spock’s- that would be insane. He shouldn’t be so disappointed. “Oh, Jim, are they being mean to you? Don’t worry. When you come out all of this, you’ll emerge as a beautiful butterfly.”

“I hate all of you.”

“No, you don’t,” Uhura laughed happily.

Spock didn’t say anything throughout that whole horrifying experience, thankfully, and Jim managed to avoid seeing his reaction to any of it, too.

Jim eventually warmed up into the conversation a little- he didn’t like to be teased, but at least it kept his mind of other things. He pulled Bones behind afterwards, when everyone was heading home.

“What the hell was that for?”

He smiled sagely, and Jim wanted nothing more than to rugby tackle him. “Nothing, nothing at all, Jim. I just like to see you being awkward, for a change.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re a terrible human being?”

“Plenty of times.” His hand gripped his arm affectionately. He watched Spock talking to Uhura, saying good-bye to her, he guessed. “Don’t freak out too much, OK?”

 _Oh, sure, Ok,_ he thought, as if it were really that simple. But he knew Bones was trying to help, so he just nodded.

“Still don’t know why you like the pointy eared bastard, anyway, I mean he’s Vulcan, he’s not _capable_ of-”

“Stop talking,” he said through ground teeth, smiling and waving at Spock when he turned to look at him, still chatting to Uhura. Were they talking about him? It looked like they were talking about him. Now Uhura was looking at him. Why were they looking at him?

Spock and Uhura were, in fact talking about Jim.

Spock had messaged Uhura the night before, intending to discuss his situation with her. The two of them had become quite close over the past couple of months, and quite honestly Spock felt that she was the only person he could have a decent conversation with. She was deceptively easy to confide in; he had been hesitant to tell her, at first, about his feelings for Jim- he was, of course, a particularly secretive person when it came to his feelings. But he was aware that if anything was come of the situation other than extreme emotional distress, what Uhura called ‘bottling up’, he would have to discuss the matter with someone who understood feelings better than himself. Nyota seemed to be able to understand Spock and explain things to him in a way that other people could not, where other people usually lost patience- having said that, occasionally he would ask a question which apparently had an obvious answer, in response to which she’d smile and roll her eyes.

They had met up during a free period and discussed the nature of Spock’s feelings- whether it was friendship, or something more. It was not an awkward conversation. Nyota had her own questions about her feelings towards Scott; whatever Spock interrogated about his feelings for Jim, Nyota found useful in her own investigations of her own for Scott. It was a conversation of mutual benefit, not a one sided discussion, like the one Spock had experienced with his mother the day before. It was less intimidating, and all round more useful- more logical.

Nyota had convinced Spock that he did, in fact, harbour romantic feelings towards Jim. She did not confess the same of her feelings towards Scott; Spock did not have the authority or experience to enlighten her in return.

So, she had told him that unless he wanted to, as she said, ‘bottle up’ his feelings and spend the rest of his school career feeling distracted and distressed whenever he was around Jim, he would have to make some steps towards understanding his emotions. Spock agreed that living his life this way wouldn’t be advisable, so he adhered to her advice.

They came to the conclusion that Spock should endeavour to find out what Jim’s feelings for him, before he could decide what to do with his own. This seemed logical to Spock. They both agreed that Jim was flirtatious, regardless of his relationship with someone, so such behaviour wouldn’t be a good indicator of his feelings. Since neither of them had really known Jim for long enough to know him truly well- Spock doubted anyone did- it would be difficult to tell how he really felt. However, Nyota hypothesized that if he held romantic feelings towards Spock, Jim would either become outrageously flirtatious, or, more likely, he would become extremely awkward and make ‘none of the first moves’; she believed that he usually behaved in an outgoing manner because he was in actual fact incredibly sensitive, self-reflective, occasionally self conscious, and believed that acting in the opposite way would hide this. She argued that if he was forced to come to terms with real, romantic feelings, this façade would not last.

Spock felt that there was definitely some truth to Nyota’s hypothesis, however he also believed that some of Jim’s confidence was real, after years of being the independent, intelligent person he was. 

Spock’s next intention had been to survey Jim’s behaviour in social situations, around him specifically- like today’s meet up in the diner- and evaluate whether it could correlate to romantic feelings; he noted, with somewhat anxiety and pleasure that Jim had been particularly introspective and nervous today, which matched Nyota’s hypothesis. Naturally, he could not be sure, but his awkwardness, his determination not to look Spock in the eye, then contradictorily watching him when he thought Spock wasn’t aware, all pointed towards him having feelings for Spock. He told himself that he had not found enough evidence yet, that he should remain objective - but he found he could not.

What he had not voiced to Nyota was his fear that Jim would not have feelings for him. Or that he would not want to pursue them, even if he did. Jim was a boy with many friends, and many people found him attractive- he could have anyone he wanted. It wouldn’t make sense for him to like Spock in that way, out of all the people who admired him- and yet he hoped.

It wasn’t safe for him to allow such hope, and he knew it, but Nyota had been right in saying that pushing these feelings aside without any answers would be unhealthy- something he would never have considered a few months ago, or without her help.

He had intended to continue to survey Jim’s behaviour and his own feelings in this way, but Nyota, apparently, had other ideas.

“You should walk him home.”

She was smiling eagerly, a glint in her eyes that he found concerning.

“He knows his journey home well enough…”

“You know that’s not why I’m suggesting it. Don’t pretend to be obtuse, Spock, it’s not cute.”

He found that Nyota was in a position of authority in this conversation, so he felt he could not argue, though he’d already begun to try when she held up a hand.

“Look, there’s a food store along the road just next to Jim’s. Dad always sends me there to get groceries, and I always see Vulcan stuff there. You can tell him you need to go that way to get some things.”

She made it sound so simple as she adjusted her school bag over her shoulder and straightened out her dress which had wrinkled from her sitting down for so long, her organised pony tail draped over her shoulder. Spock shook his head, feeling slightly bewildered by the sudden suggestion.

“Nyota, I cannot lie to him.”

“You wouldn’t be lying to him,” she said slyly, one hip cocked to the side as she watched Jim subtly beneath her long eyelashes. He was talking to McCoy, again, more quiet than usual. “Surely there’s _something_ you need at home?”

Now that he _really_ thought about it, they were running out of _sash-savas_ tea. But he had not intended to put himself in a position like this; he’d hope that he’d be able to find out Jim’s feelings without having to do anything actively. Then again, for the sake of efficiency, it was more logical to choose an active course of investigation, rather than a passive one.

He sighed; he knew that Nyota wouldn’t comment on such a habit, even though he didn’t usually indulge in making his frustration so apparent.

“Nyota-”

He wanted to complain, but he didn’t know what to say.

“Yes, Spock?” she smiled, and Spock was instantly more infuriated. He looked at Jim. Jim looked back. He looked away instantly. “We both know that there’s nothing wrong with this plan. You guys hang out all the time, there isn’t anything weird about you walking together in the same direction.”

She was right, of course, but before he could try to argue again she was waving and walking away.

“See you tomorrow, Spock!” She gave him one more encouraging smile- which did not make him feel any better at all- and disappeared around the corner.

A wave of panic settled over him as he stood there alone, watching Nyota leave, feeling suddenly very vulnerable. All that was left to do was to walk with Jim and buy tea that he didn’t need.

Jim and Bones had said their goodbyes. Spock waited for him to approach.

“You coming this way?”

His smile was quizzical, searching, and Spock struggled to look back, or even respond.

 

“Yes- there is… a food store in this direction which sells Vulcan goods.”

Jim nodded knowingly, and they began to walk together. He clasped his hands tighter behind his back.

“Isn’t there one closer to your house?”

Yes, there was, a point he had tried to mention to Nyota, but she'd left before he could. And now he found himself in a particularly awkward position.

“…yes.”

There was a moment of silence whilst Jim waited for an explanation, but Spock did not want to lie, so none came. He eventually he just nodded.

“Okay.”

This was surely not going the way that Nyota had imagined it would. He could see Jim walking beside him in his peripheral vision, closer to him than usual, which was interesting- pleasant- to note. Spock could not find the courage to say anything else, especially since small talk was not an area he was practised in, anyway. So often, until now, they had spent silences comfortably, feeling no need to say anything- but now, there was a tension, an awkwardness that came from not speaking, from Spock’s unanswered behaviour and Jim’s unusual quietness.

“So… you, er, done the biology homework yet, Spock?”

A discussion about homework was a natural starting point, but one they had not felt the need to use for some time. It was strange to have the dynamic become sstrained so quickly.

“Yes,” he responded, wishing he knew how to say more.

Jim chuckled, staring at the ground as he walked. The street was getting busier now that they were getting closer to Jim’s residential area. “Of course... I would have done it, last night, but…” his habit of pausing between words was more accented than usual. “…I don’t think I can face looking at another weird space amoeba for a while… get’s pretty repetitive.”

“That explains your increase in ‘doodles’ in biology class, recently.”

He laughed, again, looking at him with a combination of his usual smirk, glancing at him from underneath his eyelashes, and a strange shyness that he would not have recognised until now- he had looked at him in the same way yesterday when he gave him his mix-tape. Fascinating.

“Yep- I guess I should pay more-”

A man who seemed particularly in a hurry barged past them, and Spock pulled him aside before he could collide with Jim, who wasn’t looking where he was going. He’d intended to grab him by the lower arm, where his denim jacket was covering his skin- but had found his wrist instead-

Spock was met with a jolt of nerves, none of which he was certain were his or not, a wave of anxiety and happiness that nearly knocked him off his feet. Thankfully, despite his surprise, he was not knocked off his feet- Jim, however, was, and instead of colliding with the stranger, who had now passed, he collided with Spock, who had pulled him towards him with too much vigour.

So now Jim had his arm around his back, holding onto him and perilously close to him, their noses were practically touching, Spock was _still_ holding onto his wrist- all that foreign joy and stress and wonder was addictive, insatiable- and for a few moments, all either boy could do was stare in surprise at each other, frozen on the spot as the rest of the world passed by them.

“Woah,” Jim laughed nervously as he backed away.

 _Did I just_ _accidentally fall into Spock’s arms,_ Jim thought frantically, not at all happy with the circumstances. If it had been anyone else, sure it would have been funny, flirty, some stupid romcom scenario, but this was _Spock_ and he was _Vulcan_ and there was probably _a very good reason that he didn’t like close contact-_

But wait, had Spock just grabbed him? By the wrist? Wasn’t that totally unusual for a Vulcan? Didn’t they have a sort of telepathic thing going on? _Oh God could he feel everything he was feeling?_

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he said casually, though he was mentally screaming. He carried on walking- thankfully they weren’t too far from his house, or that shop that Spock was supposedly going to, though he couldn’t work out why he’d go there when he could go to the one by his street-

“I am the one who should apologise, I did not mean to…” he trailed off, apparently having nothing to add. Spock was totally awkward at the moment, more than usual, which was weird. Almost as awkward as he was being.

Wait-

Could Spock possibly like him back?

 _No, that would be insane_ , Jim chastised himself, _because he wouldn’t choose a bumbling fuck up like you, who randomly walks into people and stirs ice sadly all day._

But then, there were the signs- he’d touched him, he hadn’t pulled away, and they’d literally stood there for a good five seconds, at least, just staring at each other in shock. Spock wasn’t really the type to make mistakes, and if he did, he didn’t get awkward and weird about it like he was now. He’d usually deny it if he’d made a mistake, act all self-righteous, twist the scenario in a way that made him look Vulcan and special. But right now, he just seemed Vulcan and adorably confused.

Did Spock like him? Could this actually be a thing?

 _God, Bones was right. We’d make the most awkward couple ever,_ Jim thought.

He looked over to him as subtly could, unable to hold back a snort when he saw how horrified his expression was, his cheeks a hint greener and his hair a little out of place which was a weird (and seriously attractive) feature to see on Spock.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked innocently, a bit bewildered, and he was looking at him with those dark brown eyes that Jim couldn’t avoid gazing at, as pathetic as he knew he probably looked doing it. He didn’t say anything, just laughed quietly to himself at this whole situation which was rapidly getting out of his control.

Eventually the both worked out how to speak again, so they had a conversation that resembled something normal for them, and then Spock went off to get his Vulcan stuff, Jim trying not to turn back to watch him go.

When he got back to his flat, he locked the door behind him and slumped against it.

God, he was so fucked.  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos so far; I love to hear from you guys!


	12. Uh-Oh, Love Comes to Town (Talking Heads)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim shares a piece of his past.

Jim had fallen into him. And he had taken him _by the wrist._

Spock had tried not to replay the scene over and over again in his head as he absent-mindedly filled the shopping basket with _sash savas_ tea he did not need. But as he’d wandered over to pay and drifted out of the shop in the general direction of his house, trying to regulate his heart beat again, he’d struggled.

He was simultaneously delighted and horrified that the event had occurred.

Horrified, because it was his fault that Jim had fallen into him in first place; he could still see the look of petrified shock in his steely blue eyes. It was his fault that the awkward accident had happened.

Delighted. Delighted, because, in that moment when he had touched him, he had seen so much, so clearly.

Spock would never have invaded his privacy in such a way intentionally- but as it was, his mental shields were down and he could see straight through the window of Jim’s mind. He had seen the anxiety, the humiliation of the situation… but also a bright joy- a buzzing, volatile sort of happiness that flared up without much provocation- one that matched Spock’s own. But it was not exactly the same- no. Jim was golden and sunny, overwhelmingly bright, yet not in a way that unpleasant. It made Spock want to stay like that forever, his hand on his wrist, Jim’s hand around his back, just so that he could feel that light permeate through everything he knew, more of those golden ripples of _Jim_ humming through him.

So, Jim, it seemed, also had feelings for him.

Now that he knew for certain, it made sense. The discovery correlated with his findings on Jim’s behaviour. Jim had increased the level of his normal flirtations- stretching so that his shirt would ride up and show his stomach, leaning forwards with his chin leaning on his palm as he spoke with him…

But then, over a short period of time, such flirtations had stopped, and Jim had receded into an unusually quiet state. He did, of course, have the tendency to listen in quiet amusement as he and McCoy bickered (sometimes Spock even provoked arguments with McCoy purely to make Jim laugh), or perhaps sit in contemplation of the conversation at hand. However, recently, he had lost the confidence which he usually exuded, no matter how quiet he was. So, it appeared, it was because of his unexpected and unresolved feelings towards Spock.

So Spock knew that Jim liked him. But Jim could not know that he liked him- could he?

Perhaps he should attempt to flirt. It might not be as successful as Jim’s attempts, but he could at least try. He suspected that he had in fact been flirting with him subconsciously for some time, the more that he thought back on previous conversations. Perhaps his new awareness of his actions would make such behaviour awkward, which was not what he sought at all. He was already sufficiently awkward around Jim, and he did not want to reach Scott’s levels of terrible flirting.

He considered this as he tried to work in the library in his free period, before he went home. His PADD was open on a page about the composition of a certain star in the Gamma Quadrant, which was hot enough to create magnesium at its core. It was fascinating. And yet, on the table opposite him sat Jim- he had been careful to choose a table away from Spock so that they could both do the work they desperately needed to do.

How could that have stopped him from looking up at him at regular intervals, his eyes darting from his notes to his PADD to Jim and back again, how could he not look when there was that bizarre _burning_ sensation over his heart that forced him to, forced him to lift his gaze to Jim’s golden hair, his hand ruffling it into a strangely attractive mess, his bright blue eyes flicking from his book to his notes, a pout forming on his lips when he was deep in thought…?

And Spock couldn’t prepare for the feeling that washed over him when Jim looked up at him, a shy smile flickering across his face as he instantly looked away and pursed his lips. Still, even now, since that very first day he’d met him, those electric blue eyes surprised him with their intelligence, their emotion.

It took far longer than it should have for them to complete their work, both boys looking up at one another when they thought he might not notice. Spock couldn’t see the way the other boy looked at him, so fondly, so in awe, like he had the answers to everything. And Jim couldn’t see the way Spock looked at him, contemplative, affectionate, fascinated.

Time went by so slowly when they were in the same room, but couldn’t talk. When they spoke, it seemed that time disappeared in an instant; but now, as he found himself reading the same sentence over and over again on his PADD, Spock found that it was unbearable.

Despite this, he managed to suffer another fifteen minutes of work, finishing off his assignment and hoping it didn’t reflect his fleeting attention. He packed away his things, except for his PADD.

_ >I have finished my work and am available for the rest of the day. Once you have finished, if you would like, perhaps we could go to the diner._

Jim responded almost instantly, as if he had been waiting for his message.

_ <wait, you’re done?? That was quick, I thought you had to do the physics work as well as the chemistry _

He had meant to. But he could do that later.

_> I will complete my chemistry assignment when I get home. _

_< woah_

_< Spock don’t tell me you’re procrastinating? Because this looks like procrastination_

> _I am not procrastinating, merely postponing the assignment to a better time._

_< ok_

_< sounds like procrastination but sure_

_< anyway yeah I’m basically done here, just give me a five minutes to finish up_

It took three minutes and twenty five seconds for Jim to finish what he was doing and put away his things. Spock watched the way he swiftly stood up from his seat, the way he bounced towards him, desperate to let off some energy after sitting in the library for so long. Jim was not always patient.

He followed behind him and out of the library, talking as they usually did as they left the school building. Jim would say ‘hi’ to people who passed by, or wave, or exchange a ‘high five’ with them as he left. Now, after the time he had spent with Jim, people now began to greet Spock more often, smile at him. He would nod in acknowledgement. Not as many as those who spoke to Jim, however; it seemed that the whole school now knew him, and looked up to him, though he might not have realized the latter.

Spock started walking towards the diner once they’d left the school yard, and stopped, noticing Jim’s absence by his side. He waited for an explanation, as Jim stood on the spot in thought.

“I was just thinking…” He hesitated, mouth open to speak, eyes looking over Spock’s shoulder. “I wanna show you something. It’s… not far away from here. If, you know, you… wanna come see.”

Spock blinked.

“What is it that you would like to show me?” he asked, joining Jim’s side again and following him in the opposite direction where his bike was, which he’d taken to school that day.

“Hmmm. Just a place that’s important to me.”

It seemed that this idea had occurred to Jim only now, as most of his ideas did. He swung his leg over his bike, shuffling forward on the seat and looking up at Spock expectantly, orange and red leaves falling all around him, now that fall had come, and that pale yellow light that was accustomed for the time of year shining through his hair, so that it looked like spun gold. He patted the space behind him.

“You coming?” he challenged, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Spock managed to hold himself back from swallowing nervously. If he was to go with Jim, and see wherever this important place was, he had to sit behind him, and wrap his arms around him. The last time they had ever shared such close contact was the time Jim had fallen into his arms. Anticipation bubbled through him, and nervousness for the unexpected situation kept his feet planted. After a moment, he rediscovered how to move them and carefully sat behind Jim, who passed a helmet to him.

“Hold on tight,” he said, and Spock could hear the smile in his voice as he wrapped his arms around Jim’s waist, his chest against his shoulder blades.

In hindsight, Spock would wonder how he managed to keep control of his emotions. But as it was, he had managed. Barely

He’d done this once before, and he could do it once more, he thinks, the bike moving forwards and pressing them somehow closer together. He knew it was the most logical course of action, to take Jim’s hoverbike- to have him sit behind him, arms wrapped around him, pressed up to him for security- but he still couldn’t help wandering why they had to do it like this. Why they seemed to… fit so well together, and why it made him feel so uncomfortable, so at home, so on edge.

Spock knew he had two choices. Either, he allow himself to feel awkward, deny the strange joy that he derived from the situation despite the discomfort- or, he could use the situation to encourage the development of their relationship.

 ____”Jim isn’t going to make a move if he doesn’t think that you’re interested in him,”____ Uhura had said. _ _ _ __”Sure he’ll flirt, but you’ve got to give him the green light.”__ _ _ _

Spock thought he understood the metaphor of ‘giving the green light’, and concluded that, perhaps, there was no harm in following Uhura’s instructions in this instance. So, he allowed his chin to settle comfortably on Jim’s shoulder, the proximity between the two of them reduced even further. He could feel Jim tense up in surprise beneath the grip of his arms around his stomach.

The journey went on forever, though Spock estimated it couldn’t have lasted more than 15 minutes. He was grateful that Jim didn’t pass through any areas his parents were likely to be in, too- that would have made the situation that more complex.

In fact, Jim seemed to be taking them somewhere very different to what he was used to. It constantly amazed Spock how one area of San Francisco could be so different to the block right next to it; the disparity in class was extreme. The district they were passing through now was quite underdeveloped, close to the docks, Spock guessed. He could smell the sea salt breeze, could see it passing through Jim’s hair and dancing in front of his face.

The bike was slowing as they reached the docks. Spock struggled to understand why he’d taken them there, what significance it could have. He felt suddenly even more nervous than before.

Jim sighed as he took off his helmet, pausing for a second, resting it on his lap. He seemed to take in the view. The days were getting shorter, and the sky was a lilac colour, the water reflecting it perfectly like a mirror. It was quiet, apart from the occasional siren or chatter in the distance. Spock realised he rarely took the time to take in his surroundings in this way, unless he was with Jim.

“Where are we?”

Jim sighed again. There was that hesitance in his voice as he spoke, as if he were reconsidering bringing Spock here.

“We’re at a different chapter of my life. This was me about a year ago.”

He didn’t expand on this rather vague statement, dismounting the bike and walking towards a warehouse- Spock assumed that he wanted him to follow, so he did so. He followed him into the unknown, into Jim’s past, suddenly aware of how nervous Jim was as he turned to check he was still following him, an apologetic, anxious smile each time he looked back at him. As if he was waiting for him to disappear, perhaps hoping for him to. Why he should have brought him along when he was clearly so reluctant to show Spock whatever it was he planned to, was lost on him.

Now he was climbing up what looked like a perilously rusty ladder, but Jim didn’t seem to consider the danger of the situation as he wobbled his way up to the top and onto an iron girder. Spock followed, though a little more hesitant this time, and he could sense the rusty metal scraping against his hands. He found Jim sitting a little way down the iron girder, looking out of the entrance of the warehouse and over the docks. Spock tried to shuffle up to him as elegantly as he could, though he knew that wasn’t entirely possible right now, his hands were covered in rust and dirt. He followed Jim’s gaze. At this point, he was more focused on not falling.

“Over there’s where Bones and I sit sometimes,” he said quietly, a hint of false light-heartedness in his voice, pointing towards a short pier. “It’s halfway between here and where he helped out at the homeless shelter.”

Spock sensed Jim take a measured pause.

“I worked here. Before I went to school with you guys.”

Spock looked at him. It was said with such a matter of fact tone, such nonchalance that it sent a strange sharp feeling through Spock’s heart. For what reason, he could not guess; perhaps the fact that Jim acted like being entirely alone in the world, working in such a hostile environment at such a young age was normal. As if it made sense. Spock knew that Jim used to work for a living, but he did not know that it had been before he was 16, and somewhere like this. He severely hoped Jim Kirk knew how much more he really was. Jim was made of stars and skies, endlessness, mysteries, beauty. He seemed so young in this moment, too young to have spent his time somewhere as dark like this when he was so bright. And yet he’d seemed to age in these past few minutes, now that he was remembering.

“You were not yet 16.”

“Legalities don’t matter when you’ve got no money and no…”

He never finished his sentence.

The place suddenly felt colder, damper, darker. The sound of water dripping form the roof and hitting the floor echoed. Jim’s breathing seemed sorter. Spock was so absorbed by the sight of him, the sound of him, the sensation of the metal under his nails and the sharp smell of rust, that he almost forgot his own existence. And yet the situation was so different, so unnatural for Jim, so jaunting that the two of them felt like a pair of matching puzzle pieces being forced into an entirely different jigsaw altogether.

“Anyway, yeah. This… is where I worked. And I stayed in the shelter where Bones worked. That’s… where we met.” A frighteningly empty smile ghosted over his face.

Spock wondered how many people had seen this part of Jim before. He understood why McCoy was so important to him, now.

“It’s weird. I haven’t been back to this specific place since it happened. Too scared.” There was that strange way of speaking he had when he struggled to articulate himself. It was a rather frantic, desperate way of speaking. But with Jim, there was always a sense of resignation when he spoke about his past.

There was the sound of children screaming in the distance, playing. They must have been playing with the water, because the river was now slightly disturbed by ripples, sending beams of colours across the water, the colours of the broken billboards, the sky, the distant skyscrapers.

“I thought that maybe… if I brought you with me. It would make it seem less scary. Less like this thing…. lurking at the back of my mind.”

Suddenly he looked at Spock, and Spock looked back at him without hesitance.

“Now this place has good in it. It’ll bring me good memories, now, because _you’ve_ been here. With me.”

Spock sometimes didn’t know what to say to Jim. Sometimes he knew exactly what to say. But on this occasion, he knew he didn’t have to say anything at all, as they continued to look over the abandoned crates, girders, corrugated warehouses, a concrete and metal dump that was no place for Jim Kirk. He allowed himself to place a comforting hand on his forearm- an action he knew Jim would appreciate, but had never applied before. Any more, and he might appear to be taking advantage of the situation, of Jim’s rare vulnerability.

But as soon as he made this move, Jim’s hand found his, a swift, thoughtless movement. He almost choked on his own breath in shock. In the short moment that Spock had felt what Jim had felt, there had been not embarrassment, no humiliation- only need, sadness, desperation, and a small, growing glow of joy. And, an unnamed emotion, which Spock recognised but was too afraid to name.

The rain dripped from the roof. The sun continued to set. The cold weather crept on them slowly as they held each others hands in peaceful silence.

 


	13. In The Air Tonight (Phil Collins)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Spock are at their limits with all this unresolved tension. It's time to do something about it.

 

Jim still wasn’t quite sure why he’d taken Spock there. To one of his darkest places. He’d just… taken him there, on a whim.

The school lunch queue was long, which gave Bones the perfect opportunity to rant at him about whatever it was that was pissing him off this time. He was semi- listening, semi- wondering what the hell was going on with his life. Jim had vowed to put his past behind him, start anew- and here he was, sharing everything with Spock. Well, almost everything.

He could see him now, ahead of the queue. He was with Uhura- something that had become a bit of a pattern recently- just waiting like everyone else, but somehow he was just way more interesting than anyone else there. It was like Jim had acquired this weird Spock sensor that zoned in on him whenever he was in the room. It was seriously unhelpful. The combination of becoming really awkward around your friend and just _staring_ at them like he was right now just seemed a little bit creepy. And his flirtation tactics had disappeared entirely, along with any dignity he ever had before he fell head over heels for his dorky, annoying, perfect Vulcan friend.

Maybe he should just outright tell him. At this point, what could he loose. He’d already re-opened the door to his quite frankly disturbing life, invited Spock inside, showed him the place a bit and told him he could stay however long he wanted. If he told him he liked him, he wouldn’t be loosing anything.

Then again, it would be a completely horrifying experience even admitting to Spock that he had romantic feelings for him when he most likely didn’t feel the same. Yep, he definitely wasn’t going to do that, on second thought.

But… on third thought, there was that one thing he’d been avoiding because he didn’t want to believe it. The idea that Spock might like him back.

There was the time he fell into his arms, and Spock just kind of stood there for a few seconds without doing anything. Which was not the normal Vulcan reaction, Jim guessed.

Also the fact that he put his head on his shoulder on the motor bike the other day. And they’d held hands for, like, an hour.

Plus, he’d been dealing with his shit for months now. That had to be a good sign.

Shit, maybe Spock did like him back. Thinking about it, the cheeky eyebrow raises, the secret messages during class, they’d become more frequent. They were hanging out with each other _all the time,_ and more often than not Spock was the one to suggest they do something together. Plus, there was the undeniable tension that hovered between them. It was undeniable, wasn’t it?

When did he become so uncertain? And, now he was on the subject, when did he start being so quiet? And nervous? And _bashful?_

To think that Spock hadn’t been in his life a few months ago… it was actually quite scary to think about. Spock had brought this reliable, steady element to his life that he’d never had before. Not with his mom, not even his brother- no, somehow, when Jim was with him, when he saw him as he did now, he knew that Spock would always be there. He was the constant in his life that kept his feet on the ground, that brought him back to reality- that made things seem real. Even though, of late, his head had kind of been in the clouds, for obvious reasons.

Uhura was laughing at something he’d said. Spock had this way of saying something really sarcastic and putting on this innocent face, as if he hadn’t meant to say something so funny. Except he obviously knew he was being a hilarious smart-ass, and Jim loved that. Maybe he was the only one who could read that far into him. But then, he wasn’t sure that he knew very much about Spock at all. And God, he wanted to know more. He wanted to know everything about him.

He wanted to know what made him so suspicious of other people. It wasn’t just that reservation that came with Vulcan culture- there was something else. He wanted to know what he saw in him, since he was probably the most chaotic person in the world. He wanted to know his past, his present, his future, and he wanted to be in it. He wanted to tell him that it was OK to be Human, that it was OK to be Vulcan, and OK to be both. It was fine to bitch about how irritating it was to be on Earth as an alien, and it was also safe for him to relax, relax that straightened back a little, loosen those rigid shoulders a bit. He could let down the façade and he would never judge him. He’d only-

He sighed. He couldn’t help it. He sounded like a love-sick idiot but most of the time he didn’t even realise he was acting like one, or even thinking about Spock. Luckily, he had his trusty friend Bones to let him know if he was doing something particularly irritating or unusual.

“Stop staring at him.”  
  
“I’m not staring at him, I’m staring at the mac and cheese.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yeah I am. I’m hungry.”

“Hungry for a particular _Vulcan_ , maybe…”

“Mature, real mature.”

Bones had that stupid, smug grin on his face when he did when he’d made a dumb joke to piss Jim off. It was often followed by bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet, which would have been adorable if he wasn’t so fucking irritating half the time. Besides, he didn’t want to talk about this now. Not with all these people around him, waving hi to him and just being in the general vicinity.

Spock was looking over his shoulder. Was he looking for someone? How did he have the most perfect cheekbones in the world…?

“In all seriousness, though, Jim…” Uh-oh, that wasn’t a good start. Spinning round to look at his best friend, Bones gazed back with that rare, caring, open expression that he only seemed to reveal to Jim. It was relaxed, but sincere. “What are you going to do about all of this?”

That was a dumb question. How was he to know what he was going to do? He shrugged looking ahead of the queue. “Hmm. Curly fries…”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Yessir.”

“Jim, I’ve never seen you this happy before.”

Jim closed his eyes. Bones had hit the nail on the head, but he wasn’t going to think about that right now.

“You haven’t known me that long.” 

People were shouting and laughing, chatting and arguing, normal school life was going on around him and yet his life seemed to be a complete fucking mess. It was ridiculous. Hilarious, actually. It was like a bad TV drama.

_The heart-breaking story of a young Human boy, who falls for his dark, silent, Vulcan classmate. Tune in next episode to find out whether or not this puppy love is unrequited…_

“Long enough, James Tiberius Kirk-”

“Uh-oh, we’re onto full names now? I am in trouble.”

“- you’ve got this soppy, thoughtful little smile now.”

“What?”

“You have this smile that you do when you’re thinking about him, or looking at him, like he’s just won a Nobel prize and you’re the proudest husband in the universe.”

“ _What?_ ”

Was that true? Did Spock notice?

“Oh God, this can’t last,” Jim whispered.

“No, it really can’t.”

“Should I tell him?”

“Yes.”

“But what if-”

“Then it’ll be awkward as hell for ages and then you’ll be friends again.”

Bones was annoying when he was right. Ok. Fine. If he didn’t tell him soon, he’d just spend this rest of his time with him pining, wondering if he felt the same. Wondering what it’d be like to-

Nope, this was not the time to think about kissing Spock.

This really couldn’t last any longer.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d tell him. They’d go to the diner after school, and he’d tell him that he completely adored him.

Although, perhaps not in those words.

His thoughts were frantic and he felt sick just thinking about it. Could he do this? Maybe he could just deal with it. It’d be fine, he’d just pretend-

But then Spock turned around, scanning the room, until his eyes settled on Jim’s gaze. How could he not see it all before- all that affection, all that emotion in his eyes? Had there really been a time when he thought he was emotionless, robotic? Because now he was looking at him- it probably only lasted a couple of seconds but it felt like a minute- and he could see _so much_ affection, _so much_ emotion. Jim had to remind himself that he wasn’t smiling, really- it was just his eyes that said it all. It didn’t stop him from smiling back though. And then Spock looked away, his eyes darting quickly back before he followed Uhura to find a place to sit. It was enough to send shooting pains around his heart.

Yeah. Tomorrow he’d tell him.

 

That very same day after school, Spock entered his regular meditative trance to find Jim Kirk waiting for him in the deepest corners of his mind.

Vulcans were required to meditate to preserve mental stability, to reinforce the logical barriers they had spent so many years creating. In time, meditation made those barriers solid, unbreakable, impenetrable.

But Spock was only 17. He had not yet spent the years he needed to strengthen a half Vulcan, half Human mind- he was inexperienced, disadvantaged, and as a result, now haunted by the whispers of Jim Kirk’s soul.

The deep, dark chamber he usually found himself in when he retreated into his mind was no longer empty. Ordinarily, it was quiet, deserted, calm, cool and soothing, because he was the only one in this room. It was the innermost recess of his mind. When Spock had found Jim’s presence seeping into the corridors inside his head, he had not panicked. Their hands had touched; echoes of Jim’s touch would undoubtedly linger. He neither celebrated nor rejected his image in the labyrinth of his mind. He was not frightened, nor was he surprised. There was something perfectly natural about him being there. Of course Jim was part of him now- hadn’t he always been? Just as in real life, every corner Spock turned down those darkening corridors, Jim greeted him.

But he had trusted at least in the solace of the chamber at the centre of his mind. He had never anticipated seeing Jim there- or at least, as much as one could ‘see’ within the walls of one’s own imagination. He merely sat there, at the centre of the room, his legs crossed and a warm smile on his face, waiting for him, as if Spock were coming home.

That… that had frightened him.

This chamber was black, like granite, smooth and cool and clear. It was everything Vulcan was not- Vulcan was hot, harsh, overbearing. This was his oasis. And there, at the centre, was Jim Kirk, overbearing and bright but in all the good ways that Vulcan was not.

Spock merely stood there and looked at him.

_What are you doing here?_

It was a smile that was entirely Jim’s, it was warm and around him there seemed to bloom a golden light; Spock couldn’t see it, as such, but he felt it.

_Where else would I be? You know why I’m here._

_You’re a remnant of Jim. From the times we have touched, and my defences were down. You’ve slipped through the cracks of my mind._

A smirk, a tilt of the head.

_You know that isn’t it alone. I belong here now, just as much as you do._

An outstretched hand that Spock could not refuse. He took it, and sat before him, legs crossed, their palm’s meeting until they mirrored each other.

 _I cannot be rid of you,_ Spock joked.

_You can’t separate two halves of one whole._

Spock thought that one could, in fact, split a whole into two halves, but as he watched himself mimic Jim- or was Jim mimicking him?- following the movements of his hands and the tilts of his head, as if they were one and the same, he knew that what Jim said was true.

_Are you Jim, or are you part of my mind?_

_Can’t I be both? I’m an echo, a footprint of my soul. Which is as much yours now as it has ever, will ever be mine._

The golden ghost that pressed against his hands now laughed as he read his anxiety, and Spock knew it was Jim, how could it be anyone else? _  
_

_Vulcans are inherently possessive with their loved ones. Partners become each other’s possessions. My soul is yours now as yours is mine. And… you’re right to be freaked out about that- it’s because you’re also half human. So, while you… can’t be rid of me, exactly… I can also give you space. I don’t have to sit here with you, in your inner sanctum. And, you and I both know, that we’d prefer not to do it that way._

Spock smiled, although he wasn’t sure who’s it was, his, or Jim’s. Or both. This Jim was right, though- Vulcans were possessive. Vulcan partners were inseparable, never parted. But for Jim and Spock to have this would be… suffocating. They might share a bond, but neither had entirely Vulcan blood run through their veins. To do it the Vulcan way would be wrong… and the possessiveness would terrify Jim. Not to mention that they weren’t even partners. Spock wasn’t even sure when this had all happened, when he had started seeing Jim as a ‘loved one’. Then again, he couldn’t remember not loving him, not having him as a soul mate. Not having Jim here in his mind with him.

Jim nodded sagely, and Spock mirrored him.

 _I require my privacy, just as you do you yours._ Spock said. _However, you’re welcome to roam wherever you wish, within my mind._

_Anywhere?_

Jim leaned forward and Spock followed, their noses almost touching.

_There’s a lot in here. It’ll keep me busy for a long time._

Spock laughed, though it didn’t come from his mouth; instead, his mind felt warm, somehow.

_Should I leave you to properly meditate, then, instead of hovering over you?_

_I would appreciate it. I have much to contemplate._

_Oh, you certainly do._

Spock seemed to blink, and Jim was already practically out the doors of the chamber.

_Jim?_

He turned.

_It’s OK, Spock. I’m not gone. I’m always here, when you need me. But you and I both know that we’d go insane if we were constantly following each other around._

His mind buzzed with laughter again. He had one more question- but Jim anticipated it.

_Jim- or, corporeal Jim, should we say- won’t remember this. He doesn’t know this is happening, since he hasn’t got any psychic abilities, and you two haven’t properly bonded. He won’t be able to be a part of this until you mind meld. Until then… good luck._

Spock felt somehow emptier when Jim left the room, though he knew it was the right thing to do. He had not realised how lonely his mind was until that moment. He closed his eyes-

 

-and when he opened them again, he was back in his room.

The floor seemed very hard beneath underneath him. The sun seemed too bright and it somehow felt emptier here than it did in his mind.

The situation was unnerving. Distressing, even. And the last thing he wanted to do was tell Jim his feelings- and how strong they apparently were. However, it was clearly necessary. He could not lie to Jim by pretending that these feelings did not exist. Not when they were so intense, not when Jim was already so involved. Not when there was a _bond_ forming. He could not keep that from him. He could not realise the real extent of what a Vulcan relationship meant,  how far it had already gone. Spock had been so careless to let this happen, to let a bond form… and Jim had no idea. _Careless._

He was also unsure what it would to do him, mentally, if he kept all of this secret.

It could destroy him.

There was no denying it; Spock was morally and emotionally obligated to tell him how much he cared about him.


	14. Thank You For Sending Me An Angel (Talking Heads)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So they both decide to tell each other their feelings... who gets there first?

There he was. This was his moment.

Spock was walking towards him, simultaneously reading something on his PADD. Naturally, he wasn’t bumping into anyone as he walked down the busy school corridor, people bustling past him, evading them all in almost a balletic fashion. His eyebrows were furrowed in thought. He was wearing that dark grey turtle neck today. And the trousers that Jim always thought made his butt like great- he really hoped he hadn’t noticed him look, come to think of it-

Shit, he’d noticed him. Spock had looked up for just a second to see where he was going only to find Jim standing right in the middle of his path, awkwardly smiling at him (Jim could only assume he looked awkward, it was kind of his thing these days) and his pace slowed slightly, as if taken by surprise. Were Vulcans ever really surprised? That was a stupid question, of course they were, they just didn’t show it like Spock did, who’s eye brows twitched a little. And he actually looked rather alarmed.

Jim gave a half-hearted wave. “Hey.”

Spock stopped in front of him, looking either at his feet or at whatever was going on behind Jim. He couldn’t help but watch Spock so obviously avoid his eye contact. What was wrong? Oh God, had he figured it out? Was he freaking out and trying to avoid him? Jim bit the inside of his cheek and scuffed his shoe on the squeaky floor. Nobody had said anything for about 10 seconds now. Even for them, this was abnormally uncomfortable

“So, how’s it going?”

Finally, he looked at him. As per usual, just one look had the capacity to sap all the words from his mouth.

“I am well.”

What, that was it? No, how are you? Was he really trying to avoid him? Maybe Spock had finally had enough of him- Jim considered that this perhaps wasn’t the greatest idea.

“What are your plans today?" 

“Oh. Um, not much. Terran History. Politics… doodling,” he laughed, internally screaming at how unbelievably, embarrassingly awkward he was. “Actually, I was thinking… maybe, later this afternoon, after school, we could go to the diner? Unless you’re-”

“I am available to go to the diner with you after school,” Spock responded. Rather, interrupted. That wasn’t like him. What was with him right now? He was look in the distance again. This wasn’t looking good-

“I’m afraid I must go to my class.”

And then he disappeared, Jim desperately spinning round to watch him hurry off.

Oh no. Oh no, he really shouldn’t be doing this, Spock clearly didn’t want to have anything to do with him-

“Good lord, you two.”

Uhura. He hadn’t even noticed her approach. Her hair was tight back in a tight pony tail, and she was wearing those neon green hoop earrings again. She was so put together. Jim, however, felt like he was falling apart at the seems.

“Hi… Uhura. Didn’t see you coming.” 

“I know,” she said a little wearily. “When are you going to tell him you like him?” 

“W- wait, what?”

 “You know he’s not going to make the move. He’d be terrified of doing the wrong thing.”

He was aware his mouth was hanging open, and that he really needed to head to class now, but that didn’t stop him from scurrying after Uhura through the crowd. “Wait, are you saying Spock likes me?”

She turned her head to show him her best unimpressed expression.

“You can barely be in the same room as the two of you. The tension’s ridiculous.”

“But did he tell you he liked me?”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“What? Then why are you teasing me like this-?”

“I’m not teasing you, merely providing some friendly advice.”

“Well- I was planning on telling him later today at the diner, but I’m actually having second thoughts about it-”

“Good. Catch you later, Kirk.” She disappeared around the corner and into another classroom, hair swinging and she went. He froze for a second, then plastered his face and hands on the window of the classroom door.

“Wait, that’s all you’re gonna tell me? That’s it?”

She was sitting at her desk, looking at him with wide, ‘yes, dip-shit’ eyes that warned him to leave her alone.

He spent the rest of the day staring at the walls, mind going through all the worst case scenarios, trying to ignore the nerves that made him want to throw up. This was absurd. It wasn’t like he hadn’t told someone he liked them before. Why did Spock have this effect on him? Why did he turn him into this bumbling, inarticulate mess? Did _he_ think he was a bumbling, inarticulate mess?

Maybe he shouldn’t tell him. But then Uhura made it sound like Spock had said something to her. Or was she just implying it to make him make a move? 

This was too much. The day went on for too long. The lessons made no sense to him. Bones didn’t even bother talking to him in this state, and he was too busy in other lessons to baby sit him anyway. The walk from school back home was too long. And he just sat on his bed for two hours when he got there. The journey from home to the diner was too short. He didn’t want to do this, but he had to, and he realised he had no choice as the front of the diner loomed before him.

 

 

“I could not hate you more right now, Uhura. I really, _really_ could not hate you more.” Or maybe he loved her for getting him out of that situation; he wasn’t sure.

Just as Jim and Spock had sat down at a table in the diner, just when Jim had begun nervously spinning the ice around in his drink, preparing to tell him his feelings, just when he’d finally looked up at him and decided _to hell with it, just say it,_ Uhura had bounded in, saying, “Hey guys, Gaila’s throwing a party, you should come with!” and practically dragging them both away with her. Because of _course_ Gaila’s house- which was full of intoxicated, hormone fueled teenagers and loud music- was the perfect setting for him to tell Spock his feelings.

Spock hadn’t moved from the doorway of her house. In fact even his alarmed expression hadn’t changed since he’d frozen on the spot. It was like watching a malfunctioning hologram. Or like someone had paused him.

“It’s fine. This is the perfect opportunity for you to really do something about your feelings for him. Make a _move._ Not just try and talk and then chicken out.”

“I wasn’t gonna chicken _out,”_ Jim muttered, wondering just how Uhura had got to know him so well and wincing a smile at someone who’d recognised him. “I hate you. He probably hates you more. How could you think this would work, it’s _Spock_ -“

“Calm down,” Uhura put her hand on Jim’s shoulder, smiling knowingly and picking up a drink from the table behind Jim. She walked away, waving over her shoulder. “I spoke to him. It’s fine.”

“You- you _spoke_ to him- about what? What did you say? Uhura, what the hell do you think- uh, Spock, hi.”

Jim reeled in the panic. Spock had tentatively edged into the room and was now directly in front of him. Very close in front of him. He was making that fierce pouty face that he did when he was concentrating on something- which was practically all the time- except a little more wrought than usual. The sight of Spock- _Spock_ \- just standing there with random party music in the background and drunk people was just- it was so weird and wrong and-

And actually kinda hot.

“Come on, Spock, let’s get outta here,” Jim said before his train of thought went any further, taking Spock’s wrist- making sure not to take his hand- and beginning to drag him towards the door.

Except he felt resistance. He turned around.

Spock was doing the weird statue thing again.

“You… wanna… stay?” Jim managed. There was no way he really wanted to be here.

Spock looked around the room warily. It was still early on in the evening, around 7:00pm. People weren’t _too_ drunk and obnoxious yet, and the music wasn’t actually very loud right now. Too early on in the night, he assumed. Jim could see Spock evaluating the situation.

“I will stay if you stay.”

“That’s…” Jim struggled to understand what was going on here. Then he remembered. “What did Uhura say to you?”

Spock’s alarmed levels suddenly sky rocketed- he could see it in his eyes, although he hid it well. He tilted his head to the side slightly, his most logical, cool expression in place. “It is as you say- ‘life is about taking risks’ and ‘doing something different.’ I am merely following your advice.”

Jim didn’t speak at first. This couldn’t be real. “So, you… want to stay.”

Spock hesitated. “Yes.”

Jim held his gaze. Spock held his. The tension built until Jim had to say something before he did something stupid.

“You’re not just saying that because you know I like parties?”

It was true. He did like parties. But this was so not how he imagined his first party with his school friends to be. This was so much more complicated. Especially now that Spock looked a little offended. “Vulcans do not lie, Jim.”

Jim laughed. “Fine. Ok. But you know, I’ll stay if you stay. I’ll go if you go.”

Spock blinked, then nodded.

“I need a drink.” Jim grabbed a cup of miscellaneous, probably far too strong and really disgusting punch.

Spock took one too.

Jim raised his eyebrows, looking impressed as well as shocked. Since the legal age had been lowered, drinking had become less of a problem and it allowed teenagers to learn to drink responsibly; Jim knew this, but the fact that Spock was doing it at all was just… unreal.

“You’re really doing this? The whole package, alcohol and everything?”

That almost-smile again. It wasn’t there, but Jim saw it. It threatened to show itself at the corner of Spock’s mouth, but it was in full view in his eyes. “You doubt that I will commit to my aim, to ‘try something different’?”

“ _No_ ,” Jim emphasised, grinning like a lunatic. For a half Vulcan who supposedly didn’t understand human social behaviour or feelings, he sure knew how to make Jim flustered. “I just- you’ve changed a lot since we first met. I thought you hated this sort of thing.”

Spock thought on this for a moment, his gaze not leaving Jim’s. “I do. However, after this month and three weeks, I have found that my pride has softened. I did not see it before, but… it would be illogical to completely eliminate the idea that I might enjoy such social engagements. Especially since I have never been to one.”

“So,” Jim was still smiling. He looked down at his drink bashfully. He could tell how outrageously flirtatious he looked but he couldn’t even help it. “would you say you’re more open minded now?”

“Yes.” His answer was simple, as if it were obvious. “Since I met you.”

Jim had been thinking of another flirtatious, witty comeback to keep up his sleeve. Now he didn’t know what to say.

That was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him.

“You know, you really are getting more and more human every day.”

Spock gave him his best bitch face, practically rolling his eyes. A far better reaction to when he’d last said that, Jim thought.

“Perhaps I am, Jim.”

Jim blinked. “You’re OK with that?”

He sighed, looking over Jim’s shoulder. “It is still very hard to accept. However I must admit, accepting my human side, even in so short a time, has proven to be far more rewarding experience than I expected. At first I was ashamed.” He looked at him now. “Now I am not.”

Jim swallowed nervously, feeling a little hot under the collar. Joan Jett’s cover of Crimson and Clover was playing. He loved that song. This felt so surreal. Spock was standing there- so close to him- at a party, music playing, just talking and it was perfect but also so weird. They’d both relaxed so much so quickly, just from being in an environment that wasn’t just the two of them, one on one, spilling out feelings. He would have to apologise to Uhura. She might have been onto something here.

“You are being unusually quiet.”

Jim internally kicked himself for zoning out. “Sorry. Just scared to try this punch.”

Spock looked at his cup a little solemnly. “Yes, as am I.”

“Take a sip in three? Together?”

“What would be the point in such an-”

“Moral support,” Jim interrupted, “now come on. In three, two, one-”

Jim drank. Spock didn’t.

“What- Spock!”

“I did not say I wanted to try it.”

“That was so cruel. Fine. And here was me thinking you wanted to push the boat out.” Jim shrugged, smiling uncontrollably. “It tastes good too.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I know when you are lying, Jim.”

He pursed his lips. “Damn. You saw through me. Well, I’m not lying when I say you might like how bitter it tastes. With the whole Vulcan taste buds thing.”

This seemed to persuade him a little. “I will keep to my objective,” Spock agreed. He tried a sip. He nodded. “It is not unpleasant.”

Jim chuckled. “That good, huh.”

At that point Nyota came and chatted with them for a while, which was nice. Although he couldn’t stop thinking about her plans to bring them here so he could make a move, so he had a undercurrent of nerves throughout the conversation. Spock seemed a little on edge too. They spent about twenty minutes having a perfectly interesting conversation- Jim could already feel the alcohol go to his head, what was in this punch?- until Bones interrupted them and grabbed his arm.

“’Scuse me, Jim, I need you over here.”

Jim complied and followed Bones’ lead to the other side of the living room. There were a few more people now, although it still wasn’t too rowdy. It was actually a really fun party. No puking or crying- yet. It was still early days. Some 22nd century classic, the name of which Jim couldn’t remember was playing. Bones sat down on a sofa with a few other people. Jim joined him, a little pissed that Bones had dragged him away but happy to sit with his best friend. Bones introduced him to a few of the others. He didn’t really register the names properly, he was too busy thinking about what the hell kind of move he could make on Spock without freaking him out.

He could just tell him. If he told him he liked him, then it would go from there. Unless they were both too hesitant to do anything after that. No, it was definitely Jim’s move, he had to start it off, because while Spock had improved leaps and bounds in accepting his humanity, he wasn’t ready to take such a big step.

Should Jim even be making a move, in that case? If he didn’t, he could really regret it, but he didn’t want to make Spock uncomfortable. Maybe he could-

“Earth to Jim.” Bones’ rather harsh voice snapped him out of it. “You’re not in space yet, kid. What are you thinking about?”

Jim only needed to look at him and Bones knew.

“Damn it, Jim. I’ve never seen you this besotted.”

“Hmmmm.”

“You gonna make a move?" 

“Well that’s the problem, I want to. But I don’t know if that’d be pushing it too far. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. We both like each other- at least, I think he likes me back, I’m usually so good at knowing that sort of thing but Spock’s so- guh. Vulcan.” Spock was talking to Nyota and a few other people he didn’t recognise, now. He didn’t seem too uncomfortable, although he could tell he was trying hard to keep calm and cool. “I can’t tell for sure.”

Bones shrugged, taking a worryingly long drink of something he’d mixed together himself. “Hell if I know, Jim. I can’t read Vulcans well.”

“You can’t always read humans well, either, Bones.”

“Empathy’s not my strong-suit.”

“And I’m sure you’ll make a fine doctor.” Bones elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Don’t need empathy to save lives, Jim. And stop changing the topic.” 

“Didn’t realise that wasn’t allowed.”

“Shut up. This is what I think you should do.”

“Here we go.”

“Come on. Follow me.”

Jim narrowed his eyes and followed his friend into the middle of the room. A few people were chatting and shuffling around, almost dancing. Bones stopped.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Jim saw right through him. “No, no no, Bones get back here-” he gave up and threw his hands up in the air. Now he was standing there by himself, looking like a complete dork, and it was so obvious what Bones’ plan was it was painful- that Spock would pick up on the fact he was by himself and go talk to him.

Sure enough, he spotted him, an excused himself from his conversation.

“You’re standing here by yourself.”

“Yeah, Bones abandoned me.”

“That does not seem like the him,” he said, standing in front of him again.

Jim cleared his throat. “Oh yeah, it’s like him.”

“McCoy is a frustratingly strange individual.”

Jim laughed. “I’m gonna tell him you said that.” 

“Please do not.”

“Fine, I’m sorry. Just teasing you.”

His head tilted slightly. “Is ‘teasing’ behaviour something which is shared between friends?”

Jim looked at his feet. “Yeah. I mean if you’re doing it with good intentions, it’s the kind of thing that’s shared between anyone you care about, really. I do it a lot, which you may have noticed.”

“I had,” he said, threatening a smile.

“Generally the more I like them, the more I tease them.” He could feel his chest getting warm and tight. “So, don’t get too offended if I tease you 24/7.”

Spock opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Jim smiled. He hoped that was a good thing. The last time he’d done that was when he’d asked them to be friends.

He was considering what witty and flirtatious comment he’d say next, when he noticed someone waving at him over Spock’s shoulder. Bones. Conspicuously making signals for him to make a move. _Damn it,_ Bones. Jim widened his eyes at him as a warning, and Bones of course took no notice.

Spock noticed his change in attention and began to look over his shoulder, but there was no way Jim was going to let him see the commotion Bones was making.

“Spock, I-”

Instinctively, he took his hand.

They both looked down at this new progression. Spock looked back first. Jim held his ground, and his hand.

"Spock, back when we were in the diner, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

_Crap crap crap._

Spock blinked, lips slightly parted. Jim tried not to look. He swallowed. His throat was as dry as a desert. Suddenly the most inappropriate (or was it appropriate? Jim didn’t have time to decide) song came one; 10cc, I’m Not in Love. He also wondered who the hell would play this at a party.

He never thought he’d be happy to have drunk that shitty punch, but now he was thankful for the liquid courage. Even if it did taste like gasoline.

“I know I’ve kind of not been myself over the past few days. I’m really sorry about that, again. The truth is-” he paused, “-the truth is I like you, a lot, and I didn’t know how to deal with it so I’ve been all quiet and weird around you. I didn’t know how you’d react to it… I didn’t know what you would think.”

He couldn’t look at him. He couldn’t bare to see what Spock was thinking, if he was betraying any emotion at all. They were still holding hands, which had to be a good sign, though. They were warm. He hadn’t expected that. Bones called him cold blooded so much that he’d subconsciously assumed Vulcans were cold blooded. Which was dumb, in retrospect, considering that they’d held hands before and they’d been warm then too.

It took ten whole seconds before he finally looked up at Spock. His expression hadn’t changed, aside from his eyebrows being slightly higher than half a minute ago.

“I’ve just… I’ve really loved getting to know you and being friends with you, which I didn’t exactly expect at first, but… here we are. And I didn’t want to say anything, partly because I was unsure, but mostly because I didn’t want to ruin something which was working so well.”

Jim waited. Either Spock was practising his human statue act, or he was speechless and internally panicking.

“Spock, please say something,” Jim begged, his head hanging.

He could almost hear him thinking. Hear his computer like mind ticking away, trying to find the right answer, and clearly the right thing wasn’t coming too quickly.

“I understand.”

Jim felt uncomfortable now. Had he read him wrong? Did he not have feelings for him in that way? Now he couldn’t stop thinking about how stupid it had been to have said anything; since when were Vulcans so demonstrative about their affections that they would happily and easily admit them? At a party, no less. If he had feelings for him, that was. His stomach started to knot and his nerves were turning on him.

“You understand,” he repeated. He began to take his hand away, but it didn’t feel like Spock wanted to let go.

What if he did have feelings for him, but he just couldn’t express it? Considering the fact that he had just struggled to talk about it, he doubted Spock found it as easy.

Just as he was about to try another tactic, Spock stepped away, looking at his feet. “Excuse me,” he said, without explanation, turning swiftly to leave the room.

Deflated was an understatement. Devastated was closer. He ignored his voice of reason and followed him outside to the porch.

“Spock, wait.”

Spock halted at the top of the steps. Jim could see his shoulders heave with his deep breaths.

“Jim.”

“You can’t just leave me like that. That’s a really harsh move.”

“That was not my intention.”

“You need to give me some sort of answer. Look at me.”

Spock turned around suddenly. His jaw was tight. “I cannot do that so easily, Jim.”

“I get that, but do you realise how shitty it is to leave someone wondering if they’re feelings are mutual or not? I just poured my heart out and that isn’t easy for me either, so give me an answer!”

Spock stormed towards him, eyes fierce and panicked. “Did you think that I would be able to speak my mind about such a subject in public, Jim? After so little time, did you think I would be able to tell you my feelings for you truthfully and candidly?”

Jim paused, frightened. “No, I didn’t mean that-”

“Then why do you demand me to express something so personal so easily? Do you believe that emotion comes so naturally to me as it does to you?”

“You seem to be getting pretty emotional now,” Jim retorted, stepping towards him. Primitive, Vulcan eyes glared back at him.

“I will not stand here and be insulted.”

Jim grabbed his arm before he could leave. “You’re insulted? I’m devastated- this is serious for me, Spock, I would never have admitted those things if it weren’t- I mean, first you _leave_ without answer, and now you’re acting as if me being upset isn’t justified!”

Spock opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself. “I did not say that it was not justified.” Jim hadn’t realised how close together they were standing until he realised he could feel Spock’s breath on his face. Spock looked a little like he was softening. “You’re anger is warranted. However I am afraid that-” He stopped. He’d said more than he wanted to.

Jim blinked. He felt his frown melt. The porch light was on, and although it wasn’t too dark yet, it cast the most amazing shadows on Spock’s face. “Afraid of what, Spock?”

He wouldn’t look at him. “The consequences.” It was simple, and Jim could tell he was still hiding a lot, but for now that was fine.

“That’s normal. I’m afraid too. Everyone’s afraid of the unknown. Come on, you know that- you tried the coca cola.” The corner of Spock’s mouth turned up slightly. “I mean… I know I’m flirtatious and I’ve been with a few people but… this is very different. Entirely different.”

Spock looked at him. Jim had never seen him look so… open. So readable. His eyebrows pinched together slightly. “Different in what respect?”

Jim shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know yet.” He met Spock’s gaze, and looking up so close to him like this sent a static shock to his chest. “I don’t know, I just know that this is special, and you’re special, and if this isn’t what you want, I can cope with that. I just don’t want to put you in a difficult position, Spock, because I-”

“Jim.” It was practically a whisper, but Jim felt the word reach his lips, Spock’s breath warming his face. He could see his chest rise and fall more than usual. “I apologise for being angry. You frequently seem to elicit within me emotions with which I am… unfamiliar.”

“Oh, yes, I have that effect on people,” he smiled, his eyes never leaving his. “And... I’m sorry for bringing this up at completely the wrong time. Although I have to admit I’m pretty impressed that I managed to get under your skin.”

“Jim, to your provocations, I am helpless.”

“Now, that’s not true. You’ve kept your cool many times. All things considered, you’ve been remarkably resilient.” The quick quirk of his eyebrow told Jim that he wasn’t angry any more. As he evaluated, noticing the sound of Eurythmics ‘There Must Be an Angel’ drifting outside, he decided to remember this moment, just in case it didn’t work out- to remember how wonderful this felt.

He took the risk.

“Spock… can you give me a yes or no answer? Are my feelings unrequited?”

Spock’s head tilted slightly. The way he was looking at him right now, whatever Spock ended up saying, Jim felt that this was worth it, it was all worth it for this moment; Spock’s dark brown eyes were soft, considerate, nervous, something unnamed which made Jim feel butterflies, but most importantly, _happy._

“No,” he said simply, and Jim couldn’t help but let out the smile that had been fighting to break free. “In fact, I must admit that I… had been bracing myself to, at some point, tell you my feelings towards you, too. Unsurprisingly, you anticipated me.” He paused. “No,” he repeated. “You’re feelings are not unrequited. I find it hard to believe that in this moment in time, you could not work this out for yourself.”

Jim shook his head, still smiling drunkenly. “Spock, let’s just stop arguing for one second.” He took Spock’s hand again. This time he didn’t freeze, and he didn’t flinch. “Agreed?” he muttered.

“Agreed,” Spock replied.

And so they stopped speaking, just like Jim had asked, but now they were looking at each other and there was that feeling of ‘what next’ hanging in the air. Except, Jim knew what next.

Was he really about to do this?

Apparently so, because before Jim could doubt himself he tilted his chin up slightly so their lips were only inches away. He hovered there, lips parted, making sure not to take anything too quickly so that not to upset Spock or make this moment go too quickly. Jim’s hand left Spock’s, rising up along his arm and stopping just above his elbow, his eyes scanning Spock’s face. He looked down at Jim thoughtfully, eyebrows pulled together, fascinated by him, captivated as he lingered in front of him. They breathed each other in this way for what felt like forever, a forever that couldn’t possibly go on for long enough, until it became too much to wait. Jim slowly pulled himself towards him, closing the infinitesimal gap.

It was so gentle that every second that passed was still just as tantalising, just as unbearable. Jim’s hand instinctively rose upwards to Spock’s neck, just below his ear. He kissed him again, a little more purposefully this time, making sure to linger on his lips. Vulcan skin was warm, and so were his lips. Hard though it was, when he pulled away- still close enough that their noses were touching- he looked up at Spock, looking into his eyes for clues. He seemed relaxed, and Jim felt a shot of joy when he noticed that he appeared to be happy too. His gaze was soft, and definitely a little bemused.

His smile grew again. Spock restrained a frown.

“Why are you smiling?”

“I’m happy. And relieved.”

“Ah.”

The porch was still empty, luckily- everyone was still inside at the party. Jim found himself captivated by Spock without worrying about anyone else barging in and ruining the moment. Close up, his features were so… soft. Of course, his eyebrows, cheekbones, lips; they were perfectly defined, like a marble carving. But at the same time he didn’t seem as Vulcan, somehow. Right now, his eyes were human.

And then suddenly he was Vulcan again, brow furrowed.

“Why me?”

Jim blinked. Spock was looking back at him, waiting for an answer, but he didn’t know what he was asking. When he eventually realised, it shocked him. He laughed, but before Spock could be affronted, he replied, “I- Spock, it’s _you._ How could it not be you? _”_

It hurt Jim that Spock was having those sort of doubts. Not in an offended way, but in an ‘it’s my duty to make you happy and feel great about yourself’ way. Besides shouldn’t he be asking those questions? Like, why would Spock want him, _he_ was the especially annoying one, and-

His thoughts were cut off by a tentative kiss. Through the haze of ‘I really can’t believe this happening’ thoughts, Jim realised that something was missing. He found Spock’s hand, trying to remember what he should be doing. Spock instantly pulled away and look down at their hands, the tips of their index and middle fingers meeting each other. A Vulcan kiss.

“How did you know about this?” Spock whispered.

He shrugged. “Did some research. Although, I still have no idea what I’m doing.”

Spock was just about to show him, bringing Jim’s hand up to waist level, when there were sirens.

Jim looked over Spock’s shoulder. “Crap.”

Spock spun round. There were read and blue lights just at the end of the road. “Why are they here?”

“It’s Gaila’s house, you know what the police are like with Orions, they don’t care if it’s legal or not, they just want them in jail,” Jim swung the front door open.

“COPS!”

Everyone stopped what they were doing for a second then began to frantically flood out the back door, Gaila swearing furiously in Orion, shoving bottles into cupboards and red cups into the bin. She was clearly prepared for this exact situation.

Jim turned back to Spock.

“We need to go.”

“Quickly,” Spock agreed. 

Jim took his hand again and dragged him down the road, and they broke into a sprint. The sirens were getting more and more high pitched as they approached Gaila’s house, and neither of them turned back- although Jim was sure he could hear Bones screaming “I’m too old for this shit” behind him, climbing through the hedges of Gaila’s back garden.

Jim glimpsed at Spock as they ran. It was weird running from the law with him. It somehow suited them, though.

They turned a corner and he pulled Spock to a stop.

“Oh man- I was not expecting that-“ he huffed. “We should be safe now.”

“I should go home,” Spock said, looking up and down the street cautiously. 

He shuffled towards him shyly. Spock had this habit of turning him into an awkward 13 year old. “Just… let me know when you get home, ‘kay?”

“Yes. I will wait for your message, too.”

Something about that made Jim internally combust. He’d be waiting for him to text him. Sure, they had just run from the cops and he’d be walking through a pretty dodgy bit of town, so it was more out of anxiety to know he was safe than anything else, but still. This felt like a boyfriend thing to do.

For a couple of moments, they just stood there, barely able to see each other’s faces in the dark.

“You need to go,” Jim reminded him, but he didn’t move either. “You’re Dad’ll be pissed as it is that you’re out so late.”

“Indeed.”

Before he knew it, he was already leaning in and kissing him.

“I thought you said that I need to go,” Spock interrupted. Jim chuckled.

“Sorry. See you tomorrow. And good luck with the parents.”

They walked away slowly, turning back at each other until Jim decided to walk backwards.

“Good night Jim.”

He watched him go for a few moments, before heading home. He’d have to leave his bike at the diner, but he didn’t care. He was on cloud nine. And then broke into a run and grinned like an idiot for the whole journey home.


	15. In Your Eyes (Peter Gabriel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day is more confusing for Jim than he'd anticipated. Quite a short chapter, but believe me, the next one will be worth it :P

There was a skip in Jim’s step the next school day. He practically leapt into the school corridor, as if he were performing a musical number. Unsurprisingly, he got some strange looks.

Last night…. Had been incredible. The idea that Spock actually liked him _back…_ he’d spent a couple of hours lying on his bed in a giddy haze, before falling asleep happier than he’d been in a very long time. He felt invigorated. He felt _terrified,_ excited to see him again.

He needed to tell Bones.

Wait, no he couldn’t. He’d be a smug little bastard about it.

Never mind, he was doing it anyway.

He was just pulling his PADD from his bag, when he saw him, walking down the corridor.

Look at him, in that dorky grey turtle neck. He seemed the same as he always did, stoic, strong, stern expression, determined to show no sign that he felt anything. But then he caught Jim’s eye and there was a glint in those brown eyes that sent a shiver through Jim’s chest. Jim skipped toward him, almost running. Spock looked a little alarmed, not that Jim noticed. 

“Hey.”

“Good morning, Jim.”

“So… last night was fun.”

Spock went green and looked around him uncomfortably. He didn’t respond.

It was fun to make Spock blush, that the silence made him a little nervous. “You OK? I was literally about to message Bones and gloat about it-”

Spock’s eyes widened a fraction and suddenly Jim felt a tight pressure on his arm, and he was aware that he was being dragged away forcefully- but subtly- to a cupboard in the corridor. He found himself being pulled into the dark storage cupboard. It was cramped, and he could barely see Spock’s face.

“-ugh-What the hell, Spock?”

“Please do not tell McCoy about the change in our relationship.”

Jim’s mouth dropped open, and he shook his head slightly, feeling helpless. And then, all of a sudden, that joy was replaced with anger. 

“What are you talking about? Are you- do you regret last night? Are you ashamed? Spock-”

“Jim, you must understand that if my father ever found out-”

“What, that you’re dating a human? That you’re being a normal teenager? Why the hell would anyone tell your dad anyway?”

Spock’s jaw set in frustration. His eyes met his, a stern but desperate expression.

“Please, Jim. I only ask that we keep this private, at least for now. Privacy is… incredibly important to me.”

He didn’t understand. Not when he’d just been so happy. Didn’t he want to tell the world about them?

“So, does this mean you don’t want to do this? You’re so ashamed that you want to pretend it never happened?”

Spock blinked, as if to hide the fact he was rolling his eyes. But his expression was affectionate.

“That is not the reason that I wish for our relationship to remain between us, Jim. I am glad that last night’s events transpired.” Well that was something, at least. “And… I would like to develop our relationship further.”

Wow. Ok. 

“It is hard to explain.” It felt strange having such an intimate, emotional moment standing in a dusty broom cupboard. Hopefully the janitor wasn’t coming along any time soon. “This is very new to me, Jim. I would rather that the school… that our friends did not know, yet, until I understand fully what our relationship is. I… do not want us to become the subject of rumour.”

‘Us’. He’d called them ‘us’.

“OK. Well, OK then.” Jim nodded, pretending like he’d won the argument. He understood now. This was very personal for him. Jim couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t a little disappointed, but he could deal with that. “I’m glad that’s settled." 

“As am I."

“So, I’m not allowed to tell anyone? Not even Bones?”

“I would… greatly appreciate that. For now.”

That would be hard. He was usually all over his partner in public when he was dating them. But then, that wasn’t an option with Spock anyway.

“If it’s important to you, then… sure. I understand, Spock.”

“Thank you,” Spock said, before swiftly leaving Jim in the cupboard to go to class, shutting him in the dark, tiny room.

This was not how he’d expected the morning to go.

They messaged each other during class and arranged to meet after school; the whole time until then, Jim’s mind was elsewhere entirely. A new, unwanted anxiety was now filling him. He’d been so damn happy, and now he was certain that Spock was embarrassed about him. So many emotions had flooded through him the space of a few hours, and it was exhausting.

Obviously, Bones was desperately trying to get information out of him, messaging him asking what the hell happened last night, where did he go, but when Jim let him narrate how he almost got caught by a police officer, Bones seemed to forget completely about it. Or maybe he just got the hint.

He was used to keeping things from his friends.

The day didn’t go by quick enough, but when it did, he found Spock standing by the entrance. Jim pulled off his headphones, and they hung around his neck like a necklace.

“Hey, you.”

“Hello.”

“How was class?"

“They were productive. And you?”

“Yep, good.”

There was an awkward silence for a few moments. Jim chuckled.

“So, good chat earlier."

“Indeed.”

He nodded. “Yep. My lips are sealed.”

Suddenly, something occurred to him.

“Oh, wow. Spock, your parents must be pissed at you for coming home so late last night.”

Spock had his hands characteristically behind his back, a small frown creeping up between his eyebrows. “My mother did not seem angry. My father… never seems angry. But I could tell that he was disappointed.”

“Ouch.”

He looked at him with concern. “Are you alright, Jim?”

“Y-yeah, why do you-? Oh, no, I wasn’t saying- it’s a thing that you say when someone’s experienced something stressful or- never mind. What I mean to say is, that sounds pretty rough.”

Spock blinked in confusion and continued to look ahead of him as the two of them walked in the direction of Jim’s. He’d only just realised that Spock was walking with him that way. Was he walking him home? What a boyfriend thing to do. His face suddenly went rather warm.

“It was unfortunate, but worth it.”

Jim laughed bashfully. “Thanks. I mean, yeah, it was. It definitely was. 

_Way to go. Spock is more smooth than you._

Then, it began to drizzle. Spock looked up at the sky in alarm.

“Hey… it’s ok, it’s just rain you know,” Jim laughed.

“I did not bring an umbrella, or rain jacket.”

Jim raised his eyebrows. “You? Forget something? No way.”

“My mind has not been as focused as it usually is,” he said quietly, his pace quickening. Unfortunately, the rain began to get heavier, and they had to find cover.

“Under here,” Jim ushered him underneath his umbrella, jogging the short way home in the rain, Jim giggling at how ridiculous the situation was. His legs were soaking from running through the puddles.

Spock looked distinctly unimpressed, his fringe sticking to his forehead, when they finally reached the porch of his apartment building.

“Look, do you want to come in? It’s cold and wet out here. You can come dry off for a bit.”

Spock pursed his lips, considering this carefully. Finally, he responded, “I’m afraid I cannot. I should not return home too late, especially after last night.”

“Oh, yeah… good point.” Jim shuffled on the spot. “Don’t want to get you in any more trouble than you’re in. Your dad seems pretty scary.”

Spock almost smiled. “Yes, he would seem so.”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

He wasn’t sure where that came from, but it happened. He could feel his heart in his throat. He really hoped he didn’t throw up. Maybe it had been obvious that they were, but Jim was uncertain. He was always uncertain. 

“Yes.”

The grin that plastered his face huge. Spock wasn’t expecting the kiss that Jim responded with, though it was gentle enough that it didn’t frighten him. He was smiling as he kissed him, he realised, holding a soaking, dripping umbrella in one hand and the other cradling Spock’s face. His hair was wet.

Spock kissed back. How would he ever get used to this? The taste of his lips. They were really kissing. He was so warm; perhaps because they’d been in the cold rain. His lips were soft, but damp from the rain, and somehow that was nice, although Jim couldn’t explain why. All of it was. This moment was.

It had turned from a goodbye kiss into a I’m not intending to leave any time soon kiss. Spock’s hands were now on his waist, pulling him towards him slightly. The warmth of their steamy breath in between each kiss, the sound of the rain and their lips; it was enough to make Jim smile all over again.

He wanted to know what he looked like. He wanted to know what Spock looked like when he kissed him like this, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment by staring at him creepily. So, using all the will power he had, he pulled away.

“Well,” Jim said uselessly, looking up at him with more adoration than he realised. “You should go. "

“Yes. I’m afraid I must.”

There was that ghost of a smile, before he laid a small peck on his cheek, and taking Jim’s umbrella, he went home. Jim was happy again. More than happy. He was in heaven, as he left puddles of rain up the stairway to his flat.

 

 

When Spock got home, his father was waiting.

“You are later than usual, Spock. Were you working on your physics project with James Kirk?”

Spock had almost forgotten how blunt Vulcans were, after spending so much time with Jim, who tried to hide so much.

“I went straight home school, however, I chose to walk a different route today.”

He was not lying. His father could tell. But as he went to his room, lay on his bed, and thought of Jim Kirk, feelings blossoming in his chest in ways he still did not fully understand, he knew that his father had suspicions now.

That night he felt restless. He meditated, which relaxed him somewhat, but he could not sleep. He could feel his father’s eyes on him more than ever, now, he realised. He would have to be careful when meeting Jim.

But there was another kind of restlessness which he could not decipher. He thought about Jim’s lips, the sensation of kissing them, the feeling of their hands meeting, his unruly blonde hair, blue yes. He could not stop thinking of him, and there was a hot, uncomfortable sensation in his chest, his stomach, all the way through his body. Thankfully, before he could explore what this sensation was, he fell asleep.

 


	16. Moment In Paradise (Electric Light Orchestra)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, things start to heat up a little in here....  
> I've made the POV intentionally a little ambiguous in some places, just to let you know. I thought it conveyed how... close they are in this scene. :P

Spock sat on Jim’s bed. Their physics notes were spread out in front of him. Jim’s record player was turning. He didn’t know the song, but he liked it. He enjoyed having it in the background as he worked. It wasn’t a distraction.

Jim, however, was. 

“The aerodynamics of this equation does not match our previous results. It is empirically impossible for this equation to be correct. I think we calculated the velocity incorrectly in our earlier notes- Jim. Jim, you are not listening.”

Jim was staring at him with hooded eyes, a sly smile creeping upon his mouth. “Sorry. I have my mind in other places.” He bit his lip.

Spock did as well, but their project deadline was looming and they needed to work more on it. If they did in fact have to re-evaluate the results they had accumulated from their previous sessions, then they would have to concentrate.

Jim was still looking at him, except now he was looking at his lips.

_Concentrate._

“ _Jim,”_ Spock said in a strained but authoritative manner.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jim blinked and rubbed his face, and began to search through the numerous pages of e-notes and hand written notes he had. “Work. Right. Ooookay. Wormhole technology. Yep.”

They spent a few moments looking over their work. It was sometimes like this. Jim would be distracted by Spock’s presence, and sometimes their study sessions would dissolve into what Jim called ‘make-out sessions’. Previously, things had… developed further than that. But Spock had not been ready to do anything but kiss. Perhaps he would never want to. He did not know; all he knew was that whilst he would be tempted, the concept was so overwhelming that they had to stop what they were doing. In fact, the fear, the… anticipation, and the _shame_ was so great that it made his heart rate increase in a worrying way.

Perhaps he would never want to do anything but kiss with Jim. He hoped that Jim was truly as comfortable with this as he had said he was. Jim had asserted that he did not mind never having any sort of sexual contact, but Spock was not sure if this was true- of Jim, or himself.

“As I was saying,” Spock continued, “we may have to re-evaluate our results from this equation here. They do not correspond, and in turn _this_ equation is empirically impossible. With this velocity, the ship would not achieve sufficient- _Jim.”_

Jim was sitting right in front of him and edging close. He fell onto his back and groaned. “I’m sorry, I just can’t concentrate. I just- _love it_ when you _talk like that_.”

Spock sighed. Jim had messed up all their notes when he fell onto his back, but he found himself not caring. He felt agitated and restless, but not angry. He was breathing faster than usual, he noted with interest, and could not seem to focus on anything other than Jim for more than three minutes. Their last session hadn’t exactly ended up being productive, and now he wasn’t finding it any easier to concentrate. Jim was right there and he could kiss him and hold his hand if he wanted to.

And he did want to.

But he shouldn’t. Not now. Not when there was so much he was unsure of.

“This is how I usually talk.”

“Yep. You see my problem.”

“Yes, that is a problem.”

Jim propped himself up on his elbows, his hair a little messed up and chewing the inside of his cheek. He tilted his head back just a little, enough that it the light hit his jaw line in a particularly flattering way. He opened his mouth slightly and took a few measured breaths.

“Fine, I’m working. I’m doing it. I’m getting up. Where were we- velocity, velocity-” 

Spock had had enough. This would have lasted for hours anyway. He may as well put an end to it now. 

He stopped Jim before he could sit up fully, blocking him with his own body. Jim lay back down and Spock followed. Their foreheads touched. The close proximity was dangerously close to what had happened the other day, when Spock had been so overwhelmed that he had to step back. But somehow the concept did not frighten him so much as it had then- and even then it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, it was more that... the prospect of something sexual hadn’t properly occurred to him until that moment, and it was too sudden for Spock to digest. It had frightened him, so suddenly be faced with such an alien decision. But now, his hands instinctively found Jim’s, sliding along his arms until he reached them. He felt the excitement, the desire, the need, and it mixed with his own. With one leg in between Jim’s, he let Spock hover above him, ghosting his lips over his, delaying the moment, teasing, taking each other in. 

“I thought we were working,” Jim whispered, eyes flitting between Spock’s eyes and lips.

“You were not working efficiently. It was no use.” He smiled, as much as Spock could smile, and Jim laughed, although it almost sounded like a sigh. Spock could feel Jim’s breath, deep and slow, his chest rising and falling. He watched as Jim closed his eyes, lips parted, tilting his face to find Spock’s. It felt like hours before Spock finally met his lips.

It was light, barely a graze, but not tentative. No, it was purposeful, tantalising, unbearable, moreish. Spock met him again with a deeper kiss, Jim trying to get as close to him as possible, struggling against Spock’s grip. He let Jim’s hands go and felt them move along his back, pulling him closer, closer, one hand at the back of Spock’s neck, the other sliding along the top of his back, until Spock could feel Jim’s breath on his body, feel his chest rise and fall against his. Spock pulled away and exhaled.

“I’m sorry,” Jim whispered, touching foreheads again. “I’m sorry, we don’t have to- I mean, we can stop-”

It still crept up on him so quietly- the emotions, the feelings. Spock was prepared for them- or at least he thought he was- he wanted to feel them, but as soon as the huge tidal wave began to reach its peak, he had to stop. It was too much to handle. It terrified him. Except, the frustrating thing was, that he didn’t want to be terrified.

For his whole life he had told himself that he didn’t need to feel, that he didn’t want to. And now that he knew that he wanted to, he couldn’t. There was so much he wanted to show Jim, but he _couldn’t_.

He sighed, resting his forehead against Jim’s.

“What is it, Spock?”

He closed his eyes.

“You know we don’t have to do any of this. I’m happy just being with you. I mean… we don’t have to do anything. If it turns out that you’re not that interested, maybe if you’re asexual… you should know that it wouldn’t be an issue for me." 

Spock thought about this as he hovered above him. Perhaps he was asexual. It wasn’t uncommon among Vulcans, although it also wasn’t the case that every Vulcan _was_ asexual. And it wasn’t that he abhorred the prospect of a sexual encounter, more that he hadn’t really thought about it properly until now. It was still a rather foreign concept. It wasn’t something that had ever occurred to him to share with anyone- until he’d met Jim. And he was scared. Although, he wasn’t sure if that was Vulcan upbringing, or just him. When it came to Jim… it wasn’t his first priority. It rarely came to mind when he thought of him, or looked at him.

Last time they’d approached anything remotely sexual it had frightened Spock, taken him by surprise; but he didn’t know if that meant he would never be interested in such a thing, or if he just wasn’t prepared at the time. These were things he must consider. 

But still… there was definitely something there. That frightening human (or was it Vulcan?) instinct to go, make the move, don’t look back, _ignore your barriers._

Jim had obviously been observing his internal debate, as he placed his hand along the side of his face. “You don’t have to be, or do anything. Just… go with how you feel. How you _really_ feel. But you should know, that if you decide you never want to do anything remotely sexual- that’s cool. Don’t over think it.”

His eyes were searching, and Spock looked back into them, equally searching for what Jim was thinking. Would he really be so relaxed with sharing such a relationship with him? It comforted him, knowing that it did not change his feelings for him. But then… he knew he would not be lying to him, but what if he was hiding how difficult it would be for him? Jim was a tactile person. What if he wanted more from him than he could give? At this point, Spock wasn’t even really sure what he could give. 

He registered his words, and his own thoughts. And then he kissed him.

Spock could tell a lot from a kiss. Right now, he felt Jim's desire- although it was held back, since Spock had explained Vulcan psychic abilities and mind melds to him and this made Jim understandably hesitant. He was a very private, cautious person, and Spock knew better than to look too far into his mind without permission. He had allowed him this much, however, when they held hands and kissed.

The strange this was, it was not only Jim's desire that he was feeling- but also his own. Theirs, as one.

He pulled away a little, looking at Jim and thinking it over.

For now, at least, he knew that whatever decision he made, just _being_ with Jim was all he really needed. His expression mirrored his own pensive mood, brow a little furrowed, his lips slightly pursed.

“Talk to me,” he whispered.

His throat was suddenly very dry. He swallowed.

The feeling was there. He wanted to see what happened. He wanted to _know._ He wanted to _feel._ He didn’t know where it had come from or whether it had been there all this time… but if ever he were to explore such feelings, he would have it no other way that to share it with Jim.

“I need experience before I can make an accurate conclusion.”

“Not… not necessarily, Spock. I know everyone says ‘you’ll only know if you try’, but, you know that isn’t strictly true, sometimes you just know.” He stroked his face. He leaned in to the touch.

Spock didn’t respond. Now he was even more conflicted. Jim smiled.

“How about, we just… don’t think about it too much. Let things develop… naturally. And, you know, if either of us feel uncomfortable… we can stop.”

Spock was nervous. But, he kept being reminded, kept feeling…. Something. And he was interested to follow that feeling, for now. So he nodded.

“Hey- whatever happens… I’m staying here. I’m not going anywhere.”

A few months ago, Spock had never imagined something so incredibly perfect in his life as Jim Kirk, and now he was here, telling that he was there to stay. He wondered if Jim felt as elated as he did.

“I am… also not going anywhere.”

Jim’s smile spread further, though he looked almost like he didn’t believe him. Before Spock could argue with him, he pulled him into a kiss.

He could feel the doubt as his hand met his, he could feel Jim’s fear that he’d disappear, but he could also feel it melting away as he kissed him. He could feel his other hand moving from the back of his neck down along his back. He could feel his leg against his. There was so much to feel, when he was so used to trying not to feel anything. But he’d never succeeded with that, had he? He’d never won against his emotions, and now he wasn’t trying and it was like he wasn’t sure how _not_ to fight them. Not that he could win right now anyway, not when he could feel Jim’s finger gently tracing his spine, a leg drawing upwards so it grazed the inside of his thigh- not when he could feel Jim’s nails digging into his knuckles, squeezing so hard it made his breath hitch- not when he was cupping Jim’s face so gently despite their increasingly intense kisses- not when Jim’s feelings were pouring into him too, passing through their tangled fingers like an electric current, passing need and want and hunger and aching and _fear-_

Spock had to take his hand away. Too much.

But it gives him room to explore Jim some more, and he finds that he _wants_ to, so he tentatively lets his hand travel towards Jim’s waist, inadvertently sliding his t-shirt upwards when it makes it’s way back up again, and Jim’s responding with a light bite on his lower lip and his breath on his cheek as he pulls away for air, and they’ve never kissed like this before, they’ve kissed many times by now, kisses that are louder than words, hidden and quiet and longing and eager and unbelieving or perhaps just passing the time, but they have never kissed like this, like there was no time, like if there were time it would be measured by sighs and hot breaths and shivers. 

And now one of Jim’s hands is in his hair and Spock can feel him trying to bring him closer, and he would let him if there were anywhere else to go, but his lips are already moving with Jim’s and his breath is already mixed with his, and his other hand has similar ideas as it’s pressing down on Spock’s lower back, it’s managed to find a way underneath his shirt and Spock can feel the touch of his hand, the tips of his fingers tracing the base of his spine- his hand is warm, but in comparison to him it’s cool to the touch- 

He doesn’t have much time to think about it because now their whole bodies are pressed together and Spock wonders why he hasn’t tried this before, they seem to fit perfectly together, and he’s still terrified but it doesn’t come close to the good he’s feeling, their legs wrapped around each other and their shirts riding up just enough so the skin of their abdomens are touching, Jim’s shaking breath in his ear as he kisses along his jaw, kisses down his neck, experiments with a gentle suck, a gentle bite, and Jim hums and gasps which tells Spock his experiment has brought him positive results, and Spock realises that’s he’s really feeling all of this, he’s not breaking or pulling away but actually letting it happen and _feeling_ it and it’s _good._ He doesn’t even pull back when he recognises that warm ache his lower abdomen and he can feel Jim’s the same as he presses up against him, presses _up along_ him and their breaths stutter on each other’s lips, and-

And-

And Jim opens his eyes for the first time and looks up at Spock and he’s looking back, and he’s wondering where this has come from, because he had come to terms with the fact that Spock might not be into any of this sort of thing but he really does seem to be OK with it all, and Jim has to rethink things it seems, but he should definitely check with Spock right now that he’s actually comfortable with what’s happening before he _keeps doing that oh GOD-  
_

The sound Jim makes is probably closest to a whimper when he grinds up against him again, and his hands are practically clawing at his back now and his eyes squeeze tight shut and their lips are barely touching but they’re not kissing, they’re just breathing each other in, and he had no idea just being close to someone like this with all your clothes on could be so _intense_ but then this was Spock and everything was intense when he was with Spock, that strange Vulcan boy who was currently sliding his warm hand up his shirt and along his stomach, and it strangely tickled but in a way that went straight to his crotch, and it wasn’t helping that-

“ _Fuck,”_ he whispers as they move together again, and Spock responds with this guttural, low hum that Jim swore could not have come from Spock, but then he was sure that he couldn’t be lying on top of him and he kind of was, and since he’s found his voice he should probably keep it going, “Spock- Spock are you sure about all of this, I don’t want- I don’t want you to-" 

He doesn’t finish his sentence but he hopes Spock knows what he’s getting at, and Spock stops what he’s doing, takes his hand from underneath his shirt- Jim tries not to complain- and meets his hand instead, taking one of them from off his back and pressing his palm against his.

“You are worrying more about this than I am. You said that we should not think about it too much. You are thinking.”

“I just- I don’t want you to think that- just because I want to-”

He doesn’t let him finish. “What could you have possibly gathered from this situation that could indicate I am anything but willing?”

Jim smiles, he can’t help it, he can feel that dorky grin spread across his face. “Not much.” 

He’s looking down at him with those dark eyes, but they have a different tone to them than they usually do, they aren’t just warm like they quite often are around Jim, no, right now there’s something else there. He leans up to kiss him. Spock dodges his mouth, suddenly serious.

“You must trust me, Jim. I will tell you if I am uncomfortable.”

Jim’s hands are cupping his face and he’s stroking his fringe out of the way. “I trust you. I’m sorry. It’s just, I’m so scared of messing this up, I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

And it’s true. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing when it comes to Spock, he can’t plan ahead (not that he usually would anyway) and he feels like he’s going in blind, which is simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying. If it turns out Spock is asexual, he’s totally cool with that. He kind of figured long ago that he might be, anyway, but that’s not what worries him. He knows that some asexuals are cool with sex but just don’t feel sexual attraction towards people per se, and that some are completely freaked out by the whole thing, and it doesn’t really matter who Spock ends up being because he just likes being with him. In fact, he needs him to be with him. The problem is that he can’t face the idea of something taking him away from him, and he can’t let it be Jim Kirk’s foot-in-mouth disease or oh-look-Jim’s-done-something-dumb-again fuck things up.

Sure, Jim’s a tactile person- he considers all of this as he pensively strokes Spock’s hair back into place over and over, every time gravity makes it fall in front of his face again- but he’s OK with the idea that they might not ever do certain things. After what happened the other day he’s accepted it, but he’d kind of forgotten that not being sexually attracted to people doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t have a sex drive, full-stop- now that he’s got a half-Vulcan half-Human pinning him done and leaving love bites on his neck he can’t help but keep thinking about it.

That’s a lot to think about in so short an amount of time and Spock can tell he’s thinking about it all in the space of about 3 seconds because he smiles- he genuinely, really smiles, with his mouth and everything. It’s small, barely noticeable, but it’s there. It looks more like he’s laughing at him than anything else, but it doesn’t stop Jim wanting to take a picture of it and keep it forever.

He can still feel himself overthinking. 

“Jim,” he warns, as if he can read his mind. Maybe he can, and he tries not to let that freak him out right now because he trusts Spock. He can feel his name on Spock's lips and it’s sending shivers down into his stomach hearing him say his name like that.

“Hmmmm?” is all he offers, chasing Spock’s mouth again and he dodges out of the way once more, dipping his head to the other side of Jim’s neck, leaving trails of gentle kissing along it so Jim can’t do anything but let him and close his eyes in defeat.

“You must allow me to explore this for myself,” he mutters, tracking his jaw with his lips, “I want to understand my feelings. Will you let me explore them, Jim?”

“Yes,” he whispers.

“Will you let me explore them with _you_ , Jim?”

“Yes…” _God yes._ He’s brushing his lips with his and Spock’s hands are pinning his wrists down, and he doesn’t want to admit how much he loves being under his control like this. “Am I allowed help?” he adds playfully.

 “I am relying on you to help.” He doesn’t let Jim say anything else, and quite frankly, he doesn’t have much else to add when they start kissing again and Jim’s whole body rises to meet him, his wrists still pinned to the bed, and his hard-on grazes against Spock’s hip and his breath catches in the back of his throat, and the noise Spock makes in response is almost like a purr, it’s surreal, but it makes Jim struggle against his grip now because more than anything he wants to help Spock _explore._

 _S_ o Spock loosens his grip and Jim rolls them over, Spock’s hands crawling down his back and under his shirt, along his waist and down to his hips, and Jim takes this opportunity to kiss along _his_ neck this time and see how _he_ likes it. He does. He hums quietly and let’s his hand gently trace Jim’s spine underneath his t-shirt, which was something Jim had tired with Spock and not thought much about but now that he’s feeling it for himself he’s surprised by the way it makes his back arch, which makes their hips grind, and they both exhale at the same time, Jim burying his face in Spock’s neck and leaving a hungry bite between his neck and his shoulder.

When he finds his lips again Spock seems to be more short for breath than he was a few minutes ago- how long ago was it?- especially when he’s pulling Jim closer to him as he moves against him and he lets out a sharp breath, and Jim’s smiling on his lips. He doesn’t want to stop kissing him, he really doesn’t, but he wants to see his face so he pulls away and Spock tilts his chin up to follow at first before he opens his eyes.

Those eyes… he remembers thinking they were frightening and cold, but that didn’t last long because soon enough he realised how warm they were. Looking at him now he can’t understand how he could have seen anything other than the kind, beautiful, amazing Spock he knows now, staring up at him with those dark brown, puppy dog eyes that are saying ‘why did you stop’?

God, he adores him.

It’s then that everything feels so much more solid in Jim’s mind. He can see them in the future walking to school together, playing chess together, watching movies and sharing _life_ together, and Spock just looks so right lying there in his tiny apartment, seeming so happy and relaxed and perfect that Jim can’t imagine anything else but them.

His thumb strokes his cheekbone as he looks at him and Spock doesn’t question it, thankfully, because Jim can feel everything coming together and he wasn’t sure if he can face confronting all of that right now.

So he lets his other hand slide lower and underneath Spock’s shirt. He remembers his research; he let his hand settle just where his liver would be, if he were fully human. 

“Your heart,” he whispers. “I can feel it.” Spock doesn’t reply, just watches him. “It’s beating so slowly.”

It seems to take some effort, or forethought, for Spock to reply. He takes a deep breath before he spoke. “A Vulcan heart-beat is slower than a human’s. Right now, mine is comparatively fast.”

He allows himself to close his eyes, lean his forehead against Spock’s. He can feel his heartbeat, underneath his palm; it seems strong and steady, and there’s something very comforting in that. Something oh-so-very _Spock_ about that; strong and steady and not what it seems. His skin is so warm; it occasionally struck him, how warm Spock was. Even now- their bodies pressed together, gradually pushing all their physics notes off the bed, Jim so turned on and tangled up in the moment that he can barely think straight- the feeling of Spock’s warmth makes Jim’s heart flutter and radiate a different kind of heat that brings a lump to his throat. He swallowed it back down. 

He’s so screwed.

He can feel a hand work its way up to his chest and hover over his heart. Jim opens his eyes and lifts his head up a bit so he can see Spock again- his eyebrows are risen in surprise. 

“You’re heart-rate is unnaturally elevated.”

“Well duh.” He’s surprised he could come up with such a conversational gem when his mind’s wondering in so many places now. Like Spock’s hand underneath his shirt, his other gliding along the curve of his lower back down to his ass, then up again… 

…and before either of them know it they’re kissing again, Jim loosing some of the finesse he had before as he sucks on Spock’s lower lip and he makes that low humming noise again, and he’s so immensely _proud_ that _he’s_ the one who gets to hear Spock make that noise, _he’s_ the one who _makes_ him make that noise- and they’ve got a rhythm going again now and his breathing is shivering, and if only he could he’d melt into Spock- Spock, who’s steady breathes are only getting shallower and shallower as he tries to bring Jim closer, if only he could- but he can’t, so Jim decides that all he can do is stick to his word and _help him explore,_ because he can feel Spock relax underneath him and he loves that he can make him _feel_ like this, and he wants to do it some more _._ So he lets his eager hand travel down from Spock’s heart towards his hip, and his fingers find the hem of his trousers, and that pang of nerves hits him in a way they haven’t in a while, because he’s only ever been with one guy before and that was _completely_ different, and the gravity of the situation is suddenly hitting him as he continues kissing Spock, his fingers delicately tracing the skin above his trousers, and he’s almost too nervous to keep going but he’s so desperate to try that he pushes it all down.

Spock’s breath hitches and he pulls away when Jim reaches his lower abdomen. Jim pauses. 

He continues to let his fingers trickles from his hip to his stomach and back again as he looks down at Spock, and he’s looking at him distantly with a frown, mouth open as if he’s trying to articulate something. 

“Talk to me, Spock.” He leaves a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Tell me if I’m going too far." 

Spock’s eyes are darting from his eyes to his lips to everywhere else and his breath flutters when Jim’s index starts tracing hesitant, swirling patters below his navel. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, and looks back up at Jim, and when he does, Jim’s taken aback by how hazy yet _piercing_ his gaze is.

“Jim.”

“Spock.” It comes out as barely a whisper, he’s so on edge.

He looks like he’s about to say something again, but he doesn’t. Instead he pulls Jim into a kiss again, which isn’t helpful because it doesn’t give Jim any answers. He doesn’t want to do anything Spock didn’t want, but he leaves his hand hovering there, uncertain and nervous and oh _God what if he ruins all of this-  
_

“ _Jim.”  
_

Of course Spock can tell he was worrying again, and that was his way of telling him to calm down- or at least, as much as he could with Spock sucking all the air out of him, his kisses becoming increasingly possessive- but it’s difficult to know he’s doing the right thing when Spock’s evading his answers.

He experimentally lets his hand slip _ever_ so slightly underneath the edge of his trousers, and in response he got that hum, more fervent kisses, Spock’s hands raking through his hair, breathing heavy and irregular. 

“Spock- Spock you have to say it, I can’t guess-”

“Yes-” 

His answer is so quick against his lips that Jim makes a quiet, sort of triumphant noise, his hand beginning to tease more slowly underneath the fabric. He doesn’t make it easy on him; he likes to tease him, make him impatient, likes how much _power_ he has right now, because he can ruffle that Vulcan exterior to such an extent that Spock’s almost panting, and he’s looking at him with a look in his eyes that’s _feral,_ a look he hasn’t seen since he beat up Finnegan except it’s _different, so different_.

Jim’s lips are hovering above his so he can feel Spock’s every breath, but he can see that his eyes are shut now, he’s concentrating on holding back. So that’s when he decides to stop messing around and see how much he struggles to hold back his feelings when he finally lets his hand travel towards its goal and Spock’s breath hitches, his mind obviously battling with what his body wants to do as his eyes squeeze tighter shut and he’s shivering. But whatever resolve he has left to keep it all under-wraps dissolves when Jim begins to move and Spock’s final layer of logic disappears in a gasp, in his hands clutching Jim’s shirt and the involuntary thrust of his hips, and _God,_ Jim has no words for how good it feels, how good it feels to be allowed to strip Spock away like this, to have the honour of feeling him melt into shuddering breaths underneath him, to be trusted so much, and it scares him, it terrifies him, but he wants it, they both want it, and Jim loves it, he loves _him-_

“Jim-” he says, and he says it like he’s surprised, as if to say ‘did you know this feeling existed?’ and he responds with a satisfied ‘mmmmmm’. Spock’s breathing is beginning to stutter now, and he reaches a hand to Jim’s face.

“Will you let me?’

Jim’s taken a little by surprise until he realises that his fingers are on his psi-points, and he’s asking if he can meld with him, and when Jim nods he doesn’t fully realise what he’s asking, at least not until he feels that familiar silver blue ink that was Spock’s thoughts pool into him and-

- _Christ_ Jim can’t supress a choked moan, he’s so surprised, overcome by the tidal wave of _pleasure_ that knocks him off his metaphorical feet, so much so that he almost forgets what he’s doing, but he doesn’t, and that tidal wave- that blue-silver water that’s usually so much calmer than this- it isn’t so blue anymore, and it’s not entirely silver either, it’s golden too, and he’s getting sucked into it.

So when the wave finally reaches its peak everything goes suddenly very quiet, then it crashes down and Jim feels Spock’s hand fall from his face, and he collapses beside him. 

They spend a few moments just lying there, staring at the ceiling, breathes evening out again.

“What just happened?” Jim asked. His throat was dry. He swallowed. “I mean, I think I know what just happened. But- I mean- what just _happened_?”

Spock either understood that his question was rhetorical, or he just didn’t want to answer. Their heads rolled to look at each other at the same moment and Jim smirked, looking away bashfully.

Spock looked at him in that way that was searching, inquisitive, confused, but his eyes were warm, still a little fuzzy. His cheeks were a darker green than usual, his ears too, his lips slightly swollen from all the kissing. It suddenly felt as if he were being examined, so Jim looked back at the ceiling again. And only a few moments later, Spock apparently realised his present predicament, because when Jim peeked back at him he’d reached a whole new level of green before hurrying very purposefully to the bathroom, leaving him chuckling on his bed, face buried in the crook of his elbow. So, in the meantime, he sorted himself out and threw on some pyjamas, since it was getting late and he was feeling _especially_ lazy after all that.

It had gone _far_ better than last time.

When Spock emerged from the bathroom, drastically less green and much tidier, he looked like he’d got his Vulcan face put back together again, but when he saw Jim lying on his stomach on his bed, eyes drooping from sleepiness, Jim noticed it slip again. A smile reaches his eyes.

“Sit with me?”

It wasn’t hesitation to sit with him, Spock realised, but hesitation to cut short the view he had of Jim in that moment- the way he lay there, loose and lazy, the languid curve of his body and the early evening sunlight cutting through the slit of the curtains, leaving a trail of golden dancing dust particles across his back. His fingers were curled up in the bed-sheets and his face was half hidden in the pillow, his hooded gaze and the small smile teasing his face was a beautiful sight that Spock wanted to become more familiar with. But he did as Jim asked, and lay beside him.

The quiet warmth that settled between them was perfect. Neither one said a word for quite some time.

“I’d ask if you liked it, but I could feel that for myself.” Spock rolled his eyes and felt a pang of embarrassment. Jim chuckled quietly. “But I will ask this- would you do it again? What were your conclusions after your… first exploration?”

He sighed.

“To answer your first question- I should say so, yes. However, I cannot assume that I will want to, in the future. And to answer your second- you said so yourself. You felt it.”

That tantalising grin spread across his face. “Oh come on. You’re not going to verbally admit that you enjoyed it?”

He pouted to give off an air of innocence. “I do not need to. You know well enough. Why do you feel the need to hear me say so out-loud?”

“Some people just like to hear it in person. In words. I suppose that’s a human thing,” he teased.

“Perhaps,” Spock returned.

Jim’s face disappeared into the pillow, a dazzling blue eye and the edge of a smile poking out a few seconds later.

“So,” he murmured, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Can I ask a few questions? I just wanna get all this straight in my head, for, you know, if we do this sort of thing again.” 

This was the sort of conversation Spock had anticipated, and he thought he’d find it uncomfortable. But as it was, Jim was half gazing at him, his cheeks still a little red and his hair golden in the remaining sunlight, and he himself was pleasantly warm and content.

“You can, Jim.” 

Jim rolled onto his side, tucking his hands underneath the pillow. “So, should I avoid anything too… spontaneous? You know, be really direct with what I’m feeling?" 

“As with any situation, if you are too vague, I will not fully comprehend your intentions. So- yes. Avoiding innuendo, and being direct would be a wise decision. Otherwise, you will find me quite unprepared.”

“Yeah, we don’t want that. Was that part of the problem last time?”

Spock turned on his side and faced him. He reached for Jim’s hand, and Jim met his. “Largely, yes. Although, I believe it is also due to the fact that the desire to engage in such a thing is very rare for me. Until I met you, I had never felt it at all.”

“What, ever?”

“Never.”

Jim blinked. “Huh. Cool.”

“And, even now, when I am with you, I do not necessarily see you in a…” This was where he was beginning to feel awkward. But Jim had asked for some explanation, and he needed to hear how he felt if they were going to be a functioning couple. “… in a sexual way. It is not something I really consider when I see you, or think about you… though I did enjoy it…” 

“Haha! You said it.”

Spock glared at him and Jim fell silent. “Sorry. Go on, Spock.”

He sighed. “It is something I have never truly considered, and it still is not a prominent feature of my thinking, when I think of you.” He was repeating himself, he could tell, but he wasn’t sure how to put it, when he hadn’t really thought about it enough himself. “However… I cannot deny that together we have opened a door into my feelings that I… cannot understand. Though I am willing to explore it.”

There was a pause, before Jim rolled back onto his stomach again, his hand still loosely held in Spock’s. He shrugged, as much as he could in his position. “Just ‘cause you don’t feel sexual attraction, doesn’t mean you don’t have a libido.” He made it sound so simple, even though his words were muffled and his face was practically entirely hidden. “Thanks for talking ‘bout it, Spock. These sorta conversations are always super awkward.”

“You… deserve to know how I feel.”

There was another pause. Spock couldn’t see Jim’s face, but he eventually replied with, “Thank you.” He sighed, and his back rose and fell with his breath. “’S there anything you wanna ask me, while we’re at it?” 

There were questions, of course there were, but not to do with this specific topic. He would have asked what it felt like, to feel sexual attraction towards someone- but Spock realised in that moment that he may have already felt it through Jim, when they had held hands that day at the docks.

_Fascinating.  
_

So instead, he shook his head, and allowed himself to watch the particles in the air dance in the golden light along Jim’s back, watch him breath in, and out, watch him turn his head slightly so he could escape the pillow and breath more efficiently. Two blue eyes looked back at him from underneath dark blonde eyelashes.

“Don’t you need to go home soon?”

He had almost forgotten about home. His parents would be expecting him soon.

“You could always… I dunno, you could stay the night, if you wanted. Tell your parents your staying at a friends, which, you sort of, technically are.” His cheeks went red and his eyes darted away, and he rolled onto his back and began to drum his fingers on his chest. “Obviously, you don’t have to, I mean, it wouldn’t be because- you know- it’s just, since you’re here, and it’s easier….”

Jim was so eloquent in most situations, and yet Spock had seen him flounder like this a few times before- more than most people. Perhaps it was an effect he had on him. 

“I am amenable to such a suggestion.”

They spent the night together. Not much was said or done. But as Jim dreamt- for the first time in a long time- Spock could catch the echoes of it when their skin touched. The sound of a woman screaming, and the image of a skinny young boy, pressing his hand against the window of an escape pod, crying out for his mother.


	17. Original Love (The Feelies)

Jim dropped Spock off the next morning, making sure to drive him a little further away from his house so that his father would not see who he had been spending his time with.

He needed to tell him soon, Spock considered. He had promised his mother to speak to his father about his meetings with Jim, his friendship, his… bond with Jim. He could not keep it a secret much longer, and knows this. Not only because it was the right thing to do, but also because it was frustrating- having to be so cautious. Hiding Jim from his father did not feel right. He had asked Jim for privacy, and he had it- but it was also tiring. Concealing their relationship from his rather perceptive, Vulcan father, when had assured his mother that he would tell him the truth soon, was not a comfortable feeling.

It was winter now. The cold stung his face, the rain from the previous few days beginning to frost over. Jim was careful when he drove him to the street behind his house, coming to a slow stop on the corner.

When Spock took off the helmet and dismounted the bike, passing it to Jim, their eyes didn’t break contact. Jim removed his helmet too.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, a look of fear passing over his face. His mouth clammed tightly shut again, cheeks red from the cold.

“Is there something wrong, Jim?”

The boy swallowed.

“No. Just… don’t like saying goodbye."

Jim stretched out for his hand, and he let him take it. Those feelings that passed between them, the sensations that they had shared over the past 24 hours was overwhelming. Nothing had changed, really. But Spock also sensed that Jim was hiding something. After picking up on echoes of his dream last night, Spock knew that there was a lot to Jim that he did not know, and perhaps would never know.

He would not press him on the matter. Jim would speak to him in his own time, if he wanted to.

“I wish you to know that you can talk to me, if there is anything the matter.”

A smile spread across his face, that expressed a multitude of emotions- embarrassment, affection, fear.

“Thanks, Spock. You too.”

Spock wanted to say more. Say that Jim had nothing to be afraid of around him, nothing that he should fear admitting or saying- whatever he did or said, he would always be his-

-he would always be his-

The realization settled upon Spock in that single second. But hadn’t he known all along? Hadn’t he known since the first time he’d laid eyes on him, when everything Jim did had begun to occupy every waking thought? Had he not realised, when he had seen him in the inner-most sanctuary of his mind? When they had held hands? When they kissed for the first time, when-

-how had he not realised?

It was as if he were watching Jim put his helmet back on in slow motion when it dawned upon him. There was so much of Jim. He was in his mind, everywhere, in his past, present, and future, all that there was of it. The threads of their relationship spread through his mind, his life, like veins in a body, stretching throughout his entire being. Without even realising, without knowing who he was, Jim had always been there in his life. It felt like Spock depended on him, was alive _because_ of him, because of the force of their relationship spreading throughout his whole life span. Time was relative; this was eternal.

This was the pivotal moment where Spock recognized that this was his _thy’la,_ sitting right in front of him, revving the engine of his hover bike and driving off into the distance. Now he couldn’t see him; but he could feel him, still. Like an elastic band, he felt their bond stretch, felt Jim grow further away, forcing Spock to snap back to him.

He could not say how he knew all of this. Spock had only heard about _thy’la._ But somehow, he did know. He could feel it like it was a physical part of his body.

He could feel him now. He knew that he was growing further and further away from him. He could feel him like he were physically attached to him.

At first, Spock had thought that it was a normal bond. A very strong one, of course, but he had thought it was just… a normal, mental bond. That in itself was enough to concern Jim; for him to know that they were connected in this way, how possessive Vulcans were when such a bond existed, would terrify him. Spock had not told him everything yet, because he feared that it would drive him away.

Jim was a boy who feared commitment, for reasons Spock could not decipher- but one who also needed it.

But now, now Spock understood that this was something more. This was _thy’la._ This was what humans would describe as fate. A fixed point in time, a fact that cannot be changed, whatever world or universe you are in, your _thy’la_ would always be there. As if a normal bond would not frighten Jim enough, this was…

… this was…

Spock did not know.

He tried to remain mentally present as he entered his house. His father would be at work. His mother was at the dining table.

“Good morning Spock. How is your friend?”

She didn’t look at him from above her PADD. Her tone of voice was strange. Spock may have been occupied by his own thoughts, but he could at least pick this up.

“She is well. We had a productive study session. We worked late, so I thought it best to stay over and alert you.” He paused. She still did not look up. The low winter sun cast a pale yellow light over the dining room.

“Was I wrong in doing so?”

“I have absolutely no problem with you having sleepovers with friends, Spock.” Now she looked at him, head still lowered, eyes glancing up at him from her seated position. It was a look of suspicion.

“I hope Uhura is well.”

He had never mentioned that he had been staying at Uhura’s. His mother clearly knew better, her suspicions heightened.

She knew.

He didn’t move.

“I’ll be preparing some lunch at 12:30. You can come join me, if you like. I always appreciate your company when you’re free, Spock.”

He nodded slightly, pausing for a few moments before heading upstairs to his room.

He closed the door quietly behind him, and stood there for a minute or two.

She had not seemed angry, but Spock was almost certain that she knew why he had been so vague about which friend he was staying with. How much did she know, though? Did she know the extent of their relationship?

He sat on his bed.

It was ironic. Spock had fallen in love with a boy who was chaotic and complicated, and yet their relationship provided something so reliable, so stable as a _thy’la_ bond _._

He smiled, leaning back on his bed. It was not something he did often, to ‘flop’, essentially, backwards in emotional defeat. He didn’t usually let his emotions rule him enough for it to happen. And yet, here he was, staring at the ceiling, as if it might provide some answers as to what to do. What to tell Jim. When to tell his father about them. What to tell his _mother,_ if there was anything left to admit that she hadn’t already figured out herself.

And then his mind drifted to last night. It had started off so simply. They’d only been studying, and then, somehow, Spock had discovered a whole other part of himself that he didn’t know really existed. So much had changed, and yet nothing had changed at all.

There was still the irrational fear that Jim would leave. That Spock would not be able to provide the sexual comfort that Jim sought.

But then, he had still enjoyed last night, and he doubted that it would be the last time such a thing occurred. He had enjoyed last night a great deal…

That feeling. That feeling was back. It had been lurking in his stomach for a while now, coming and going unpredictably. Yesterday, though, before things had… escalated, he had felt it. It was hot. Uncomfortable. Perhaps this is what people called libido. Something different to sexual attraction, he knew. But it was there.

Those nights were he had stayed awake for longer than he usually did, because this feeling was keeping him alert. On edge, in a way he had not previously understood. Now, he understood, as his thoughts replayed the events of last night.

There was a rustling sound outside his window and his eyes snapped open.

He was not mistaken. There had definitely been a sound.

He sat up to see a hand grappling for the window ledge.

Jumping off the bed, he quickly paced to the window, opening it as quietly as he could, bending over the edge of the sill to find the flushed, focused face of Jim Kirk.

“Hey. Lend me a hand?"

He did, pulling him in with ease. Doing it quietly was more difficult, as Jim huffed and groaned while he climbed inside and fell on the floor.

Spock hoped his mother hadn’t heard any of that.

“Jim- what are you doing here?” He whispered.

Jim was grinning foolishly, that childish smile that Spock couldn’t resist. He was still red in the fact and a little out of breath.

“I came to see you, dummy.”

“You- you could have been caught. My mother is downstairs, you are lucky my father is not here, he would have certainly heard you-”

“But he’s not, so it’s fine. I just- I had to see you. I don’t know why, I just did.”

Spock knew why. But this was not the time.

“I just- I don’t know how to say this without sounding creepy or stalker-ish, but Spock, God- I just, I can’t get you out of my head.”

It was all Spock wanted to hear, the bond in his mind and body and being growing warm with joy, the unreserved smile on Jim’s face pulling him closer to him. But the guilt, the knowledge that he was hiding something from him-

It didn’t stop him from cupping Jim’s face with both hands, his smile melting in surprise, and kissing him.

He wished he could tell him everything words could not in this kiss. Unfortunately, Jim did not have psychic abilities, but he kissed him nonetheless, pouring meaning and love into every embrace. A quiet, needy, relieved sound escaped Jim’s lips and he directed the both of them to the bed, the heat in his stomach flaring up and spreading throughout his system.

He needed to speak to Jim. But how could he? How could he when he knew that as soon as he did, he would leave him. It was selfish. But he was desperate to cling onto the thing that made his worth living.

He would tell him. But not yet. Not right now. Not when Jim kissing him so passionately, his hands running through his hair, Spock’s hands roaming his back, his legs, his face, Jim’s stroking Spock’s ears, his cheeks, his neck, kisses everywhere. This proximity was something Spock had never experienced, had never sought from anyone else before, and it felt like when they were like this he could finally satisfy the complaints of the bond in his mind- that they most be closer, closer, no, _closer than that._

Jim was hungrily climbing into his lap, pulling himself closer to Spock, and he let him, feeling his hands running up his shirt. His hands- through his hands, he felt that golden aura that was Jim’s mind, his soul, his feelings, melting into him like rain sinking into the dry, thirsty earth. Jim needed to be with him as much as he needed to be with Jim, he realised. The two halves of one whole coming together, he thought, considering the words that he’d heard those weeks ago when he’d been meditating.

It was like the only way that was natural, that was right, was to be together, to be touching, together, Spock pulling him as close as he could.

It was all so terrifying. He felt like a different being from the one he’d known his whole life. Was this really him? Were these feelings even real? What had he become?

No, he remembered with simple a kiss from Jim’s lips, this was within in this whole time. Jim’s bond had been there, in his mind, this whole time. But now it was awake, he was aware- _too_ aware of his emotions crashing into his mind, washing away everything he knew about himself-

No, this was not the right moment to tell Jim about _thy’la-_ to do so now would almost be a sin, betraying his affection and trust like this by destroying it- he would tell him tomorrow- tomorrow…

Spock had forgotten about his mother downstairs. It was so unlike him to forget caution like this. But he had read about the _thy’la_ bond, knew what it did- knew that it stripped Vulcans of their rational thinking, as if Spock had any left after meeting Jim….

His kisses descended down Jim’s neck, his head tilting back, his breath fast and heavy, but quiet.

“How do you do this to me?” he whispered. “You come along into my life and everything fucking changes….”

Spock almost laughed at the irony, hearing this from Jim when he had been thinking it himself only a few moments ago. He lifted Jim’s shirt over his head, leaving soft kisses along his collar-bone. A quiet giggle left his lips.

“Ticklish,” he explained. 

A superb opportunity for Spock to continue kissing, he decided, as Jim wriggled and writhed, trying not to laugh and alert his mother downstairs. Jim decided to retaliate by kissing Spock’s neck in return, tracing the curve of his ear- a strange, unexpectedly pleasant feeling- and back down again. Finding his hand, Jim gently stroked his fingers along his palm. It was such an affectionate, careful statement that it brought a small smile to Spock’s face.

Jim saw this. He leaned back, an enormous grin responding to Spock’s tiny smile. Their foreheads met.

“I made you smile.”

He laughed again, but this time it was not because he was ticklish. The sound was miraculous. It was quiet, but perfect. Knowing that he could make him happy like this; a person who had clearly seen so much darkness, most of which Spock could not comprehend, it was truly miraculous. Jim made him believe in miracles.

He kissed him again, but it was short lived, when Jim brought his hand to his lips, kissing them in a way that was so loving and protective that it was overwhelming. And yet, Jim could not know, could not understand that what he was doing was more than that.

Spock’s breath hitched, not expecting this development. It had not occurred to him that kissing one’s hands could arouse such feelings, but then, it made sense, since Vulcan hands were so sensitive. Jim had not anticipated this reaction either, and it didn’t take him long to understand, and he began to kiss every finger delicately, eye’s fixed on each other.       

He swallowed, his throat suddenly going dry, and the temptation to make some sort of sound becoming so great that he had to do something to push it back down. It would have been such a simple feeling for a human, but for him, it was a rush of emotions, of warmth, of need and painful heat-

He would not allow Jim to win over him like this. He made a surprised whimper and Spock picked him up and carefully, quietly moved him onto the bed, where he could kiss him himself, explore _him,_ planting kisses down his stomach, all the way down to his waist band-

He stopped, and froze.

“My mother is coming.”

Jim sat upright, hair awry, blinking away whatever he had just been feeling. Spock was sad for this to end, but he would rather that than his mother walk in.

“What?”

“She is coming up the stairs now. I estimate that you have 10 seconds to hide in my wardrobe.”

“Sssshit-”

He leaped of the bed, picking his t-shirt along the way and climbing into Spock’s wardrobe. Spock noticed rather too late that there was a sizeable ‘hicky’ on Jim’s neck.

Hopefully that would not become an issue.

He leveled his breathing, straightening his shirt and sitting on his bed, when his mother knocked.

“Spock? May I come in?”

“You may.” 

She poked her head around the door at first, looking around the room, before fully allowing herself inside. Even with a look of suspicion on her face, she seemed graceful and gentle, her robes and scarf drifting behind her.

Her eyes turned to her son’s undoubtedly blushed face.

“Are you OK, up here Spock? I heard you open your window, and was concerned. It’s very cold outside. Do you have a fever?” 

There did not seem to be much sincerity behind her words. Mother might have been living among Vulcans, but she was not as good at hiding her emotions.

“No; do not be concerned, mother-”

“Where is he, Spock?”

It felt as if a weight were plummeting through his entire body/

“Who, mother?”

She raised an incredulous eye-brow. “Please, Spock. Do you trust me so little?”

No, he did not. But this was still incredibly humiliating.

His eyes drifted towards the wardrobe. Amanda sighed, quietly making her way to the wardrobe. When she opened the door, she found a rather cramped, shirtless Jim Kirk curled up on top of Spock’s shoes.

He couldn’t move his head, it seemed, so he merely looked up at her from his position with an embarrassed smile.

“Mrs Spock, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

She sighed again, this time rather more loudly.

“Call me Amanda, dear.”

She extended a hand to him, helping him climb out of the wardrobe. He swiftly put his t-shirt back on, rubbing the back of his neck as he did when he felt socially awkward. Spock could not decipher the situation. His mother did not seem angry. Merely resigned, as she shook her head with a quiet chuckle. 

“I wish we had met in different circumstances, I must admit, James. But it is a pleasure to finally meet the boy who has been occupying my son’s life so much, lately.” 

Jim stared at the floor, then Spock. 

Mother’s expression became rather more serious as she turned to her son.

“I would like to make it clear, that whilst I have not problem with you two being together,” she began with a warm smile, “I want no more sneaking around behind my back. No more surprise sleepovers from you, Spock.” 

He nodded briskly. 

“And James- please do not climb through my son’s window. Not only do I dislike the fact that you’re sneaking into my house without permission, but I don’t like the idea of finding an unconscious teenage boy on my front lawn, because he has fallen whilst trying to climb up to his boyfriend’s room.” 

Jim looked as if he were about to laugh, his mouth pursing. “Yes ma’am.” 

“Nor do I like this being a secret from your father, Spock.” 

Spock swallowed.

“James, I am more than happy that you visit us here in the future, however, there are some thing which need to be discussed first. Would you mind leaving me to speak with my son?”

He stood up straight, as soon as she had made her request, clearly feeling that he was talking with a figure of authority despite the fact that his mother was so gentle.

“Of course, sure, I- you’re really not going to kill me? You know what, never mind-” he babbled, gathering himself and walking to the window. It brought another smile to Amanda’s face.

“James? You can use the front door. Sarek will not be home for a while.”

“Oh- right. Anyway, thanks, um- Spock, see you later, I guess?- and um, thanks for not murdering me, ma’am, and, have a nice day- bye-“ he added rather abruptly before disappearing.

That left only one thing- for Spock to talk to his mother about all of this.

She simply looked at him for a moment, waiting for the sound of the front door to close. Then, she settled at the edge of the bed.

“When were you intending to speak with your father, Spock?” 

He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t decided. He didn’t want to, so had subconsciously decided that it would be better for him to find out by his own means, or over time. 

“I had not planned a specific time. I… will tell him soon.” 

“Will you?” 

“Mother, I am not lying to you-” 

“I know you’re not. I trust you, Spock. You might not know it right now, but you may not ever tell him if you keep things up like this. You are waiting for the right moment, when there is no right moment. His reaction is always going to be the same.” 

Spock took a deep breath, close to a sigh. 

“I know this.”

“Rationally, yes. But there’s also that very human thing called anxiety in you, that tends to paralyse you from doing what you know you have to.” She smiled sympathetically. “It’s something we all have.” 

Spock didn’t understand. Why was she so calm? Why was she not angry that he had not done as she had asked?

“Why are you not angry?” He sounded almost angry himself, frustrated that his mother was not behaving in a way he could understand.

“I’m not angry, because I am happy to see you so happy, as you have been recently. I don’t think Jim is a bad influence, as your father does. I think you both care about each other very deeply and will do anything to protect each other.” Spock looked away. “That is something very different.

“However, I am frustrated. Frustrated that you feel you cannot approach me with these problems. And yes, I know, you’re a teenage boy, you’re not supposed to,” she said, as if pre-emptively answering a complaint that Spock wasn’t going to make in the first place, “but I don’t like not knowing about the important things in your life, Spock. Not when they are clearly causing you so much distress.”

Spock couldn’t look at her again. He didn’t want to show her how well she had read the situation.

“And you are distressed, aren’t you?” 

He didn’t answer, but Amanda sighed, showing that she knew that answer.

“I want you two to be happy. But you cannot keep this from your father- as tempting as that is.”

“He will not understand.”

They were both silent for a while. The dust danced in the winter sun, making the moment feel like time had frozen.

“I understand that you are in an impossible position. I do not want anything to come between you and your happiness, Spock- to be honest, I’m delighted to see that you’ve made friends, and truly strong relationships since coming to Earth. But you underestimate your father. He is not so different from you than you think.”

Finally, Spock looked at her. 

“What do you mean?”

She smiled, her eyes loosing focus as if remembering something from the past. 

“He married a human being, after all. He has been in a similar position to the one you are facing right now.”

He could not argue with this. But there was still no way he could tell his father that he and Jim were _t’hy’la._

“What if he prevents us from seeing each other again?”

She seemed to almost roll her eyes.

“How much do you care about this boy, Spock?”

There was barely any hesitation.

“He is my _t’hy’la._ ” 

It was a relief to say out-loud.

She closed her eyes and sighed, as if these words had been inevitable.

“Then you’ll find a way, won’t you?” She smiled, a rather mischievous smile that he had never seen before. “This does not mean you get to avoid talking to Sarek, however, Spock. Please, speak with him, soon. He does not deserve to be left unaware like this. I will do my best to help him understand.”

Spock looked up at his mother, unable to put into words how confused he was, how little he understood why she was trying to help him after how much he had hidden from her and his father. Why she had believed him when he said Jim was his _t’hy’la,_ why she was not frightened or upset. She stood up, hesitating before planting a rare kiss on the top of his head, and exited the room, leaving Spock to sit there on his bed and contemplate what had just happened.


	18. Close To Me (The Cure)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am. SO. sorry for how bad i've been at updating this.
> 
> long story short, i graduated, started a new degree, went through a bit of a mental breakdown about a few things and now i'm back lol
> 
> thank you all so much for the support <3

It was at that point, when had Jim got back on his bike and headed home after crawling through Spock’s window, that he realised that he loved him.

Or something along those lines.

It was a sensation that scared him more than anything in the world. It was a devotion, an invulnerable link, like if he went to far away from him he’d break and just, die. 

All his life, Jim had done everything in his power not to be dependent on anyone. He looked after himself, and that was that- there was no one else to trust. And now, along came this Vulcan, and he loved him more than he knew he could love anything. It hurt, and it frightened him. 

On that bike journey home, over the sound of the roaring hover-bike, he could hear his uncontrollable gasps, feel the tears streak down his face as he understood now what was happening to him. He had fallen in love. He was 17 years old, and he had fallen so deeply in love that Spock had become his past, his present, and his future. An inevitable thread in his life that twisted throughout every second of his existence.

Is this really what love is? He wondered, his hot, sobbing breath steaming up his helmet. Is it this terrifying? Is it this physical, this painful?

He had never been in love before. But something told Jim that this was something more than ordinary love- it was an ancient, atavistic emotion, a need. It was something that was completely out of his control. He did not understand. All he knew was that Spock was his, and he was Spock’s.


	19. You're the Voice (John Farnham)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens.

It was three days later and Spock had not yet told his father about Jim. 

They had, however, told their friends.

In Spock’s mind, it was a build up to the inevitable, for Jim, it had been something he’d been anticipating for some time. Spock greatly appreciated Jim’s reservation in telling people about them. Now, he considered, that if he could not be comfortable with his friends knowing, then the likelihood that he would find the right time to tell his father was slim.

By all accounts, it went predictably. He, Uhura, McCoy, Scott, Chekov, Sulu, Christine and Gaila were at Jim’s flat for a celebration after handing in their physics project. Drinks were already being poured and miscellaneous snacks were distributed. Jim and he had decided to nonchalantly mention it mid conversation, and everyone reacted in their own way. Uhura and McCoy, both knowing previously of their flirtations, were relieved and supportive. Christine did not say anything, uncharacteristically. Gaila was unnecessarily vocal in how pleased she was on our being together, and Scotty had apparently been oblivious to the whole situation- a matter Sulu and Chekov found most amusing. Indeed, in Scott’s words, “Well I dinnae see it fuckin’ coming!”

After this, things continued on as normal, as if nothing had been said- except, of course, for the occasional show of support or emotional hug from Gaila (who, respectfully, did not offer one to Spock). If only things could be so consistent after he discussed the matter with his father, he thought. 

The celebration progressed quite quickly from this point.

“Who wants some wodka!” Chekov cheered, the proposition being well received by the rest of the group. 

Spock, however, was still on his first drink. He had tried alcohol after his first encounter at Gaila’s party, but preferred to be restrained in how much he drank. It seemed he might be the odd one out on this occasion. 

“I’m not doing a shot of that shit,” McCoy warned. 

“Too scared?” Chekov taunted, wiggling the bottle at his face.

“Absolutely fucking not,” he retorted, “I just value my taste-buds. Jim, got anything to mix?”

“Sure, I probably have some soda somewhere,” Jim smiled, more relaxed that Spock had seen him for a long time. He returned with a large punch bowl and ladle with a pink juice poured into it.

“Vodka cranberries? Really?” McCoy moaned.

“Don’t be that guy, Bones,” Uhura chided. “’Girly’ drinks taste about 300 times better than any shit you’ve put into your body.”

This seemed to convince everyone as they watched Chekov pour the entire bottle of vodka into the punch bowl.

Jim leaned over to him. “You know you don’t have to actually drink any of this right?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Things seem to be getting a little more, err….” He watched the others in their celebration, “well, boozy than I was expecting.”

Spock only gave a small nod. Perhaps, in different circumstances, he would have been enjoying the drink in his hand. Instead, all he could think about was how he would tell his father about Jim.

“Hey. Look at me.” The others were too distracted to notice this moment of affection between the two of them, Jim’s fingers turning Spock’s head to look at him in the eyes. “It’s going to be OK. If it’s not, you know where I am.”

It was either an example of Jim being perceptive that meant he knew what Spock was thinking. Or, it was that their bond was growing stronger. 

“I love you. It’s all going to be fine.”

And Spock could feel that he did. He could feel the warmth of Jim flowing through his touch on his chin and through his body. He could feel his mind buzzing beneath his fingers and sending a charge of affection through his mind. 

“You love me.”

Jim laughed, a bashful laugh that brought redness to his cheeks as he shook his head in what looked like disbelief. “Looks like it. I don’t really understand it- I mean, I do, obviously, because it’s you, but- it’s all a bit sudden.”

“Your feelings are… reciprocated.”

With people around, both knew it was not the time to discuss the topic any further. Spock knew, however, that at some point, he should probably explain the bond that grew between their minds. But, for now, perhaps, it was time to celebrate. 

 

Two hours later, and once more, things had progressed. 

Chekov was inebriated. Sulu was drunk. Gaila was tipsy. Music was playing and nobody was sobre.

At this point, including Spock.

He had not planned to drink more than a glass, and Jim had tried a little too hard to protect him from the abundance of flowing drinks. Spock had found this endearing, but unnecessary. It turned out that actually, considering how much he could not stop thinking about talking to his father, a drink was quite appealing.

He had now had two, and was making his way through a third. Perhaps it was due to his lack of tolerance, or perhaps it was because alcohol did not mix well with Vulcan blood- either way, Spock certainly felt that his emotions were surfacing, at the moment, in a very pleasant way. There was too much to be joyful about to feel anything else.

It was a strange sensation. It did not make him feel out of control- though, granted, he had not drunk much. Rather, he felt that he was less concerned with what he should or shouldn’t be feeling, and, paradoxically, he felt that he could therefore choose what he felt in that moment much more easily. 

He could see the appeal, therefore, of alcohol. That was not to say that he would ever want to be as inebriated as Christine was right now, who seemed to be drunkenly crying to Gaila in the bathroom. That would have the opposite affect, Spock decided.

Jim was happier that Spock had ever seen him. It made him warm with joy. Their eyes met, and Spock could not hold back the smallest of smiles creep up on him. 

He had been right. Their bond was growing stronger. He could feel Jim’s presence in his mind, and he wondered what Jim felt. His th’y’la, who loved him. They had found each other.

“Get a room, you two,” McCoy groaned.

“No, it’s so cute, I’m so happy for you two,” Uhura cooed. 

“Besides, don’t have another room to go to.” Jim smirked and Spock suddenly wished there were, heat rising to his cheeks.

McCoy groaned, and the others laughed. Spock stared into his cup, warm with alcohol and a manageable dose of embarrassment. 

And then a song came on. It apparently was enough to make the others cheer uproariously. It was also the moment that Uhura and Christine came out of the bathroom, Uhura leading a red faced Christine. 

‘…Be my, be my baby…’

“I love this song!” Uhura exclaimed. “Dance with me, Chrissie.”

And so they did. And they all did. Sulu and Chekov span each other round, McCoy and Scott attempting to jokingly imitate a pasa doblé. 

Jim stands up and offers his hand to Spock. “Care to dance?”

Since it seemed to be what everyone else was doing, he took the offered hand, standing up to meet his gaze. He was only slightly taller than Jim, but it was always more obvious when they stood as close together as they were now. It then suddenly occurred to him that he did not know how to dance.

As if Jim could read his feelings- and perhaps he could- he chuckled and suggested, “Follow my lead.”

Jim linked hands with him, moving Spock to the beat, until he reckoned he understood what Jim was implying. They swayed side to side to the song, foreheads now touching, Jim occasionally spinning Spock around or vice versa. Another song from what sounded like the 1960s came on, and whilst Spock didn’t know the lyrics, the rest of the group enjoyed singing along. If it meant that they weren’t paying attention to what was going on between he and Jim, their dancing becoming slower and more affectionate, he was comfortable.

Their loved seemed to mingle between them, the openness of it around their friends somehow making it stronger. They could be together. 

“I will stay with you, Jim Kirk,” he said. He wasn’t sure what prompted this need to clarify. Jim’s response was also not expected, his smile brief. He ducked his forehead, laying it on his shoulder so he couldn’t not see his expression. 

“I love you.” He said it so meekly that Spock instinctively wrapped his arms around him. 

“I love you, also.”

He could feel a buzz of warmth come from Jim’s contact, mixed what seemed to be some intense anxiety.

There was a knock at the door. Jim looked up, apparently fine again, though Spock could tell those feelings were only pushed aside. 

“Alright, who ordered pizza?”

Everyone looked at each other, the happy atmosphere calming down slightly in the confusion.

“Not me, pal. Maybe down-stair’s complaining about the noise,” Scott suggested. Jim looked at Spock with raised eyebrows to convey his interest.

When he went to answer the door, no one expected Sarek to be there. 

Spock instinctively took a step back, before standing up straight and swallowing nervously. Someone turned off the music, though he couldn’t tell who. His father’s severe figure filled the doorframe, seemingly dwarfing Jim as he radiated disappointment and contempt. 

“Good evening.” Jim spoke calmly and politely. “You must be ambassador Sarek? I’m pleased to m-”

“I am here to find my son.” He looked directly at him now, his gaze moving from Jim, who stood firmly in the way, to Spock. Having spent so much time with humans, he could understand now why Vulcans frightened humans so much. This situation, however, was unique; Sarek was here to take Spock away and reprimand him for mingling with these people. And there was so much his father didn’t even know yet. 

“Father,” he responded simply.

“Come. I am taking you home.”

The room was filled with tension, the other members of the party forgotten, frozen in the background. Spock noticed Uhura’s hand come to her mouth in distress. 

Jim turned to look at Spock, still standing in the way of Sarek, quite intentionally, Spock could tell. He could feel those waves of protectiveness coming from him- the very same ones as when he defended him against Finnegan. 

“Is there something wrong?” Spock should not be asking at all, he knew. He was meant to follow his father’s wishes without question, as he was wiser, more Vulcan. And yet, he knew he did not have to.

“There is nothing which I wish to discuss in front of these people.” He looked down at Jim. “Move yourself, so that I may approach my son.”

Jim looked round to Spock one more time, their eyes meeting, love and concern buzzing between them. He gave a small nod. Sarek passed through. He would not fight him, there was little point and he did not want to; this discussion was better in private. They looked at each other with this understanding between them, and both left the apartment. He did not turn to look at Jim before he left; he knew that if he did, it would make the inevitable even harder. 

 

The car journey was silent. However, when Sarek entered his home, Spock following, he found that he shut the door with more vigour than he intended. Indeed, the journey had been taken in silence not because there was nothing to be said- but because Spock’s anger had been uncontrollable. 

“You came to find me and take me away from my friends. I did not tell you the whereabouts of Jim Kirk’s home. How did you find me?”

Sarek turned to face him in the living room, Spock standing with his Vulcan posture opposite him. He could hear his mother moving upstairs. 

“I asked your mother where you were. She responded that you were with a friend. I have known for some time now that you have been with James Tiberius Kirk when you have engaged in these study sessions and social gatherings, though your mother did not specify this herself.” There was no resentment in his voice as he said this. “This, however, has gone on too long.” 

“And so you searched where he lived and found me to take me home?”

“It was the logical thing to do.”

“In what way?” Spock responded, his anger bubbling up again, his Vulcan façade slipping, hands unfolding behind his back.

“He is a danger to you. See how your emotional control is already weakening,” He looked him up and down, making Spock feel suddenly exposed, “You now engage in human frivolities which weaken your defences further.”

“You are referring to human social gatherings involving alcohol.”

“I am.”

“I do not see how this endangers me.”

“As I have said, it weakens your emotional barriers, rendering you-”

“I do not see how this endangers me,” Spock repeated. 

With this, Spock was met with silence, Sarek’s expression unchanged.

“I find your lack of interest in following the Vulcan way dangerous. You are forgetting who you are.”

“Am I, father? Or am I only just learning?” At this moment, Amanda emerged from up-stairs, stepping warily into the room with her hands clasped below her chin. “I have been ignoring my human heritage for so long now. Do you expect me to grow up amongst human teenagers and not enjoy my humanity?”

He was losing control of the volume and tone of his voice, now. At least the alcohol may have helped him voice his opinions better than if he had been entirely sober, though he felt he might come to regret this later.

“No,” Sarek agreed. “I do not expect you to suitably follow the Vulcan way in this environment.” He turned his back to Spock, going casually to pour himself a glass of water. “That is why I have decided that you must return to Vulcan.”

His heart froze, ice trickling through his body. Suddenly, he did not feel so brazen or bold. “Return to Vulcan?” he said meekly.

“Correct.”

“Sarek,” Amanda began, before Sarek paused her by raising his hand. That would be a conversation with mother for later, it seemed.

“You cannot… I will not return.”

“You must become involved in Vulcan customs and academia before it is too late for you to learn what you need for the Vulcan Science Academy.”

“Father, I do not wish to apply to the VSA.” That angry fire was returning now, and he paced towards his father so that he looked at him as he spoke. “I want to join Starfleet.”

Sarek did not seem to respond in his expression, but his jaw seemed to tick with frustration. “Another way in which James Kirk has influenced you-”

“And what is so wrong with that? He is a good person, intelligent, and he has made me happier than anything on Vulcan ever did.”

“You disrespect Vulcan so easily.”

“I honour my heritage and I respect the Vulcan way, but you also seem to forget who my mother is.”

At this moment Sarek turns to look Spock in the eye. “I do not forget your mother. She who is my wife is most important to me in my life, as is your well-being. To suggest that I don’t-”

“To decide that I return to Vulcan against my will is ignoring my well-being. I have told you that I am happy here, that I have friends here, and I have independently chosen to apply to Starfleet-”

“What good can Starfleet do for you? How could you fulfil your greatest potential there, or on Earth, where you are not challenged?”

“There are greater challenges than academics, father,” Spock responded. “There is much here for me- my future, and my friends, and Jim.”

“He is influencing you,” Sarek retorted, amazingly loosing some of his own control. At that moment Spock believed that he was genuinely trying to protect him- that he genuinely believed Jim was damaging him. “I cannot allow you to become as unrestrained as your older brother did, because of one boy.”

“He is not just a boy,” Spock hesitated.

“Many friends can be made on Vulcan,” Sarek said, though he must have known that Spock was incapable of doing so as a child.

“He is not my friend,” Spock ploughed on. “He is my t’thy’la.” Sarek showed no surprise, though Spock knew he must be feeling it. “To separate me from him is an act of violence.” 

“You are too young to know of t’thy’la,” he responded simply. “Only Vulcans of a mature age can-”

“He is my t’thy’la. I have never been more certain of anything in my life.”

The room fell silent, and Spock had almost forgotten his mother in the background, eyes shimmering with tears. 

“You will not separate us,” Spock repeated, storming out of the front door and not looking back. 

 

Spock had been caught in the rain when he ran to Jim’s flat. When he answered the door, he found that the others had left. He took Jim’s face in his hands and kissed him roughly. 

His kiss was reciprocated at first- however, Jim pulled pack after a few moments. “Whoa, whoa, what’s wrong, what happened?”

Spock’s anxiety was riding up, his anger barely abated. His hands were shaking. “Let me feel anything but this.”

“OK, take my hand,” and he did. Jim passed to him as much comfort as he could through his finger-tips, leading him to sit on the bed with him. He left for a moment to fetch Spock a towel, but swiftly returned, continuing to pass on his feelings to Spock.

“What happened,” he repeated quietly. His blue eyes shone with the anxiety he would not let Spock feel. He relayed the discussion with his father to Jim, his voice disturbingly uneven as he did. 

“But he can’t make you, can he?” Jim whispered.

“No. No, he cannot. I will not let him.”

“I can’t believe you told him you want to apply to Starfleet,” Jim said, almost laughing. “He must be really pissed.”

“Indeed.”

“Your mom though- she can’t agree with this?”

“I am not sure. My father probably holds reservations towards her for not telling her that we are t’thy’la. She did it for her son’s sake, but her husband will not be pleased.”

“Right.” The warmth of his hand on his his comforted him. He was feeling much calmer. Since his father could not force him to return to Vulcan, since his father could not interfere with t’thy’la, things would get better. Though he did not seem to believe that their bond was real.

And that was another thing; Jim did not understand t’thy’la.

“I told him that you are my t’thy’la.”

Jim hesitated. “Your t’thy’la?”

Spock swallowed. “You have expressed your love for me. And I love you in return,” he added, before Jim could feel anxious about this. “but our bond is not quite so simple as this.

“I feel so strongly towards you… so desperate to maintain this, not only because I love you, but because we share a Vulcan bond, called t’thy’la.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “Are you saying that… there’s a reason I’ve fallen in love with you at the age of 17, after knowing you for all of three months?”

“In a way, yes.”

There was a pause.

“Thank fuck,” Jim breathed. “No offense,” he added, though Spock took no offense. The conversation was going far more smoothly than he expected, and he found that he was not thinking about what might happen when he next saw his father. Speaking aloud to Jim about their bond was somehow making it seem more real, more indestructible. “It’s just… when I realised I loved you, when I thought back on how protective I’ve been of you… its kind of freaked me out. So to know that there’s something deeper going on… it’s a relief.”

“The protectiveness you speak of, this is a major part of being t’thy’la. We are bonded for life, Jim Kirk, two halves of one whole. It is an inevitable, unbreakable, ancient bond.”

Jim took a shaky breath, seeming more intimidated by the concept now. “Shit. Right, well… I’m not going to deny it, because I feel it. Does it mean you can read my mind too?”

“No, although the stronger the bond, the longer we are together, the more we will be able to sense each other’s feelings from a distance.”

“When I left you yesterday… it felt like an elastic band stretching. The farther I got, the more it felt… unnatural.”

Spock stroked Jim’s hand, a range of complicated feelings mixing between them. “And how do you feel about this?”

“Terrified. Fucking terrified, but… also… like I said, relieved. So, you told your dad about this bond?”

“Correct. He does not appear to believe me.”

“He thinks its just young infatuation,” Jim nodded. 

“I believe so.”

His head then lay on his shoulder. They both sat like this for several minutes in silence, digesting the information that had been divulged.

“I am sorry for kissing you without your consent on arrival.”

“Oh, you know I like a bit of spontaneity. I’ve told you that,” Jim approved. “I would’ve liked it, if it weren’t for the fact that you’re wet and angry. You’re like a cat sometimes.” He began to giggle to himself sleepily (and perhaps still a little inebriated). 

Indeed, the water was dripping from Spock’s hair. 

“May I use your shower?”

Jim looked up and kissed him. “Yes. And stay the night if you like.”

“I would appreciate that.”

“You can face him tomorrow, when you’ve both cooled down a bit.”

“Precisely. I already feel more confident that we will not be separated.”

Jim looked away, going to the kitchen. “That’s good. Go warm up now.”

 

They both lay on Jim’s bed, warm and close, nose to nose, together as they should be. Talking out loud about all that was happening, saying how much they loved each other made Spock see that there was nothing that could stop him from loving Jim. 

“Jim.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you imagine yourself at the helm of a ship, one day?”

In the evening light, Jim’s face flickered with surprise, then thought. “Yeah. I mean, it would be the dream. The good kind,” he added. Spock wasn’t sure why the clarification had been necessary. “I… don’t want to be my dad. I never will be. And I don’t really want to end up the way he did. But… to have a family that big. To be able to help all those people out there… I can’t imagine anything else better to do with my time. I’ve never felt like I belonged on Earth, anyway. Why you though? I wasn’t certain you really wanted to until you said it.”

Spock thought for a few moments before answering, the semi-dark cloaking them like a warm blanket, his newly washed hair emitting the smell of Jim’s shampoo. His sheets were soft. “I do not believe I can use my skills for a better purpose than advance our knowledge of the universe. And to do so in a more… diverse environment than Vulcan would be valuable.”

Jim nodded, looking into his eyes. That gaze never failed to disarm Spock. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“This bond… that isn’t the only reason love each other is it? It’s not like… we’re forced together? Like, I have to be with you?”

Spock could not help but feel slight guilt. Vulcan culture and biology must be so frightening to a human who is not well versed with it. “I love you because of your features. I love you because your are kind, clever, and brave. I love you because of everything that makes you Jim Kirk. We are bonded because of my Vulcan biology.”

“So… even without this bond, we’d still feel the same way?”

“Correct.”

“It’s just that it adds an extra kind of… Vulcan-ness to it.”

“If you wish to see it that way.”

“And… just because we’re bonded, doesn’t mean that…”

“If you do not wish to be with me, things can be arranged to break a bond safely.”

“I’m not saying I want to,” Jim rushed in. Spock was relieved to hear this. “It’s just…”

“I do not wish for you to feel trapped, because of the way my Vulcan mind works. You are always free to leave.”

Jim nodded, seemingly relieved. “The option’s here.” Spock nodded. “I think I’ll stay though, if that’s alright with you,” he continued, with a smirk.

“I would be very happy for you to stay.”

The conversation abruptly ended when Jim started to kiss him. It had been some time since they’d had a moment like this. Their kiss was slow, soft, and meaningful. Jim stopped to find Spock’s hand. 

“If I remember correctly, this is where we were last time?” Jim began to kiss his hands delicately. A small gasp of surprise came from Spock’s mouth. “Are you OK with this? If you’re not feeling it then we don’t have to do anything.”

Spock watched him hesitate, lips parted above his index finger. He wet his own lips. “I feel it is suitable, considering our admission to each other today.”

Jim smiled. “Yeah. First ‘I love you’, that’s a big thing. And, of course, the whole bond situation.”

“Quite,” he replied, a twitch to the side of his mouth betraying his amusement. He had, for now, forgotten about his father’s threats. Right now, he wanted to love Jim with everything he had. And so, Jim began to gently kiss each of Spock’s fingers. It was a sensation that he could not have imagined; he did not know his body could be feel so much. When he began to suck on his index, Spock’s breath hitched.

“I had no idea your hands were so sensitive,” Jim murmured between kisses, looking into his eyes. It all sent waves of pleasure throughout his body, most notably below his abdomen.

“I never knew I could ever feel this way,” Spock whispered hoarsely. He wanted to let Jim keep kissing him like this. He would be happy to lie like this forever and forget his responsibilities. But he also wanted to make Jim feel as good as he did, so he pushed him on his back, rolling on top of him. 

Those cheeks were pink now, sandy hair falling out of his face, blue eyes gleaming with a multitude of emotions that were also coursing throughout his own veins. “You don’t like being submissive for long do you?”

“Apparently not.”

“Well, tough, because I’m determined to find out all the things I can do that’ll make you moan like you did last time.”

Now Spock’s cheeks flushed. He could feel both of their arousal intermingling through their minds, between their linked hands. They kissed more fervently now, with a desperation to be as close together as possible. Clothes were piling on the floor and Spock found that he was less hesitant about all this than he was last time- as did Jim. The atmosphere was far more relaxed, but the anticipation and ‘butterflies’ were stronger than ever. He felt light headed, barely getting enough breath between kisses. 

“God, Spock.” His body writhed with pleasure beneath his, and Spock found it hard to concentrate on anything else, apart from plant kisses down his neck, arms, chest, stomach. “Let me go on top… please… or I never will and I’ll just lie here and let you do things to me forever.”

The rumble of appreciate he made wasn’t intentional, rather, instinctive. He let Jim roll him onto his back, and he lay along him, legs tangled, stomachs and chest breathing against each other. 

“I want to try something. Stop me if you don’t like it.”

Spock nodded, breathing shallow and reluctant to let go of Jim as his head disappeared out of his sight below his waist. 

And so it went; Spock did, in fact, make noises which embarrassed him, but made Jim very pleased. He took his revenge, however. And by the end of it, both fell asleep, side-by-side, the rain hammering against the window.

 

Spock did not dream; not very often, anyway. And if he did, he rarely remembered them. That night, however, he did dream, though it wasn’t his.

_He was on what looked like a battle-field. No- a riot. There were Starfleet officers descending from the sky in pods and parachutes. They’re in a forest, and much of it is on fire. There are phaser burns in most of them; so many that some of the trunks had been worn away and felled. They were pine trees. The image was very clear, the details unmistakeable; this was Tarsus IV, as Spock had seen in pictures. Huts were burning. Fields of triticale dead. But it wasn’t just sight that Spock got, nor just the sound of screams, children crying, and soldiers on both sides shouting orders; there was also the smell. Spock had never smelled death, but he felt that this rotting stench of meat must be it._

_A pod crashed to the ground, Starfleet officers pouring out of them, phasers at the ready. The sun suddenly came out, and the scene became immediately more dazzling, so that he winced. He would not need to wince as a Vulcan, however, this was not his dream._

_The body of a woman lay over her child. Both appeared to be dead. Beside them, crouched a young boy. Spock could not discern his age; he was too malnourished. His hair was thin, but distinctly sandy in colour._

__

__

Jim.

Spock could not be here and intrude. He couldn’t invade Jim’s privacy like this- but for all his knowledge of mind melds and bonds, Spock did not know how to leave. Jim’s defences, even in his sleep, were so strong that they had trapped him here.

“Jim.”

The boy turned around, but only after Spock said his name several times.

“Spock,” said the young boy. “What are you doing here? You’re not meant to see this-”

“I have tried to leave- I do not want to intrude, but I cannot escape your mental barriers.”

“My mental-”

A bomb exploded near by, tearing both of them away from the conversation for a moment.

“I relive this most nights anyway,” the young boy said in the voice of an older Jim. “You were bound to find out eventually.”

Spock looked around. Jim, at Tarsus IV. He had survived all this. Only to return to Earth and live in a homeless shelter. All this death and destruction… his motives to join Starfleet were only clearer, now. Spock finally noticed the pile of dead bodies in the background. He had seen that in many history books. The gravel path that led to the burning huts mixed with blood. The large, grey building beyond them roaring with sirens. 

“What do you wish me to do, Jim.” Spock knelt beside the boy, both staring at the deceased woman and child. 

“Just follow me, I suppose. Enjoy the ride.”

“I cannot see how I could enjoy your distress and trauma.”

Young Jim began to cry. “I know. I really wish you didn’t have to find out this way- I was going to tell you, I swear-”

“You have nothing to apologise for- I will try to be as unobtrusive as possible. I’ll stay here in this spot until you wake up, if you wish-”

“No,” he said abruptly. “Please… stay with me.” He sniffed, wiping his dirty face with a skeletal hand. He was barely recognisable.

And so he followed him as Jim followed the path that he took every night in his dreams. He stood up to find one of the Starfleet soldiers, ran up to him and clung onto his arm in supplication. Only, then, another bomb exploded, taking out all of the soldiers around them and knocking Jim of his feet. Spock could only watch, as the boy scrambled to his feet, and began to sprint through the pine woods. Spock jogged behind him, as the phaser blasts of the enemy shot at him and many of the surviving Starfleet officers. Around them, somewere hit and dropped to muddy ground, but the boy continued to run and kick up pine leaves, jumping over dead bodies and rotten logs. Streaks of red phaser light shot past them, but, miraculously, Jim managed to avoid being hit by any of them. 

The boy turned around, and Spock turned too, to see Kodos himself. He was not as mighty or threatening as Spock had imagined him; he was malnourished too, scrambling over those he had executed. “Get all of them! Every one of them! No one can survive!”

They turned back around again, and up ahead he recognised someone who could only be Jim’s mother, with his brother.

“JIM! JIM!” 

They emerged from the woods, and Winona Kirk gathered Jim in her tiny, slender arms. Adrenaline must have mad it possible. She took her other son’s hand, setting Jim down. 

“Boys, there’s a pod here ready to go, and we three can get on. Come on, take my hand and don’t let go.”

And they did. They ran to the pod, an officer ushering them on, and then the phaser shots began again, killing the officer and several others around them. Jim didn’t scream, nor did his brother. A grim look of understanding settled on his mother’s face. 

“These people need to go, now!” the pilot screamed. He started to lift off, the shuttle lifting off the ground. 

Winona Kirk pushed her sons onto the pod with all her remaining strength, before it could get beyond her reach. Jim extended a hand. “MOM! GET ON!”

Winona only smiled with tears in her eyes as the door shut. Jim could barely reach the door window, but he did. He pressed his hands against it. “MOM! MOM!”

She looked at him for a second longer, before she was shot in the head and fell to the ground. 

They both abruptly woke up, Jim screaming, sweat pouring down his entire body. The sobs that he emitted were pure grief, fear, and pain, a sound Spock had never heard before. He took him in his arms and held him, passing as much love and comfort as he could through his touch as Jim shook with his crying. His heart burned with pain for him.

“Please don’t leave me. Please, please don’t go, please don’t leave me-”

“I will never leave you. I will never let you go.”

“Stay with me. Please, stay with me, I can’t do this alone, I can’t lose you too-” 

“I will never leave you, Jim. You are safe.”

They lay like that for about half an hour before Jim’s tears subsided, Spock’s residual anxiety subsided, and they fell into a light sleep.


	20. Stay- Blue Nile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So. 
> 
> I have finished this fic.
> 
> I started this in 2014, having written 4/5 of it. I finished it in 2017, after experiencing two breakups, an abusive relationship, and a couple of mental breakdowns. Life is looking up now.
> 
> I'm sorry that it's been so long. I hope that not too many of you have run away from this. But, of course, real life gets in the way sometimes.
> 
> This fic has meant a lot to me, so it would also mean a lot to me if you guys could share, comment, give kudos. 
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it over these years.
> 
> thank you xxx

The rain had subsided in the morning. Jim had fallen into a deep sleep after the nightmare, but Spock lay awake, golden hair nestled beneath his chin. The sun was beginning to rise earlier now, as the summer was on its way. The light that came through the window was bright and grey, but it didn’t wake Jim. Spock considered that this was the first time the boy had slept like this for a long time, if ever. 

When he finally managed to peel himself away, Jim awoke. He placed a gentle kiss on the boy’s forehead and told him he loved him. Jim stretched out his index and middle finger to share a Vulcan kiss, and Spock reciprocated. 

It was a quiet morning, seagulls the only noise he could register. Everyone seemed to be having a slow Sunday morning. Puddles had gathered from the rain the night before, but the grey sky hadn’t cleared- the summer sun was struggling to fight its way through the carpet of cloud, making the atmosphere hot and muggy. It wasn’t Vulcan, of course, but it reminded him of the oppressive environment of the planet. The calm before the storm: the metaphor came to Spock as he wondered home. He was alert. Prepared for what was to come. Quiet with dread. 

He knew his father would be unhappy. He supposed that he and his mother had discussed what would happen next. Perhaps they would all stay on Earth, and Spock would move out. Maybe his parents would return to Vulcan. What he did not expect is what he found when he returned home. 

He approached the porch of his house, and considered how often he had felt anxiety when doing so. Coming home meant telling his parents about aspects of his life that they would not expect or approve of; he was associating with Jim Kirk; he wanted to join Starfleet; he had been put in detention for fighting with his colleagues; he was half human. 

This time, however, was different. As he approached the porch, he slowed to a complete stop; he could sense that his parents were not the only ones in his house. He had not prepared for this. Taking a deep breath, he attempted to settle the live wire of nerves that were bundled in his stomach, but to no avail. 

When he opened the door, there were several Vulcans in his living room, all in the traditional Vulcan security attire. They were T’Pau’s guards. Sarek and Amanda had been speaking in low voices, and as Spock entered the room, they paused and looked up at him. 

“Spock,” his father began. He looked weary. 

“Father.”

Spock knew that this could only mean an intervention. 

“Spock,” Amanda stood up, hands uncharacteristically stretched out to him, despite the company. Spock stepped towards her and accepted her touch, finding that he could not deny his mother anything. That she should offer this open affection in front of Vulcans was a worrying omen for the conversation to come. The crease between her brow did nothing to ease his growing anxiety.

“They’ve come to take us back to Vulcan,” she said quietly, as if the others could not hear their conversation. Her eyes shone with moisture. “I’m sorry.”

His mouth was suddenly dry and he found that he could not control his breathing which he’d tried so hard to master before coming inside. His mind gently reached for the bond, for Jim’s presence, and searched- not without desperation- for its comfort. It swelled brightly for a moment; it faltered as it noted Spock’s anxiety. Could Jim sense it, back in his flat? Perhaps. 

His mother’s eyes held his gaze for a few more moments before he withdrew from her touch. She stepped back also, her Vulcan veil susurrating gently. The noise was loud in the silent room. Her breathing was louder than the rest of theirs, too. Spock turned towards the Vulcans in the room.

“I can only apologise- you have made this journey in vain. I cannot return to Vulcan with you.”

Spock’s eyes went to meet his father’s. Though he usually betrayed no emotion, in that moment, Spock saw regret. It was an emotion he’d never recognised in Sarek. 

“Your father has contacted T’Pau concerning your activities on Earth,” one guard said, his expression unreadable. Like any good Vulcan- which Spock was not. The stiff, wool collar that was their uniform almost covered his mouth when he spoke. “We have been sent to help you and your family return to Vulcan.”

“I see,” Spock said evenly, although his heartbeat was only increasing. It was beginning to make him feel light headed, and his chest felt as if it were tightening. “I am afraid I cannot leave Vulcan, despite what my father may have told you.”

“Spock,” Sarek said, standing up. He couldn’t look at his father. Not now. He turned his face away from his rather pointedly. Such disobedience and disrespect clearly surprised their visitors, though they would not show this in their expressions. Instead, they passed judgemental glances to one another.

“Spock,” his father tried again. “This was never my intention. However, your grandmother wishes you home. She is waiting for us at the shuttle.”

Silence settled on the room, the tension was palpable, and all Spock could hear was his own heartbeat thrumming inside his head. He felt like his mind was going to drift away at any moment, leaving him a hollow shell. He was dangerously close to losing his inner sanctum, his place of peace, his control. He looked down to find that his hands were shaking. 

“I cannot.” He did not sound as confident as he had last night. “I will not.”

“You have no choice,” said the same guard as before. “T’Pau orders it. You must return to Vulcan for your wellbeing.”

“My wellbeing,” he repeated inanely. “My wellbeing will be in pieces if you force me to return to Vulcan. My t’hy’la is here.”

The guards looked at each other quizzically, having clearly not known this part of the story. “A bond can be broken,” said one woman, uncertainly.

“No,” Spock said weakly. At last his feet had remembered how to move, and he couldn’t stop them from taking him to his room.

He felt their eyes on his back as he left. He heard his mother take a shaky intake of breath at the events unfurling. He sensed his father’s regret. Well- it was too late now. He was being forced back to Vulcan. His father did not believe that a bond existed, and no doubt T’Pau felt similarly. When she discovered that he and Jim were t’hy’la, she would break the bond. Possibly marry him off to some other Vulcan. He would be desolate of his other half, ripped away from him. 

It was a struggle to climb the stairs without tripping. He slammed the door behind him, and collapsed back onto it. His breaths were fast, short, shallow, his chest was tight with stabbing pain, his vision wavering. What was happening to him? His hands were shaking, his knees were giving way and then suddenly he was on the floor, hands raised to his temples as if to hold onto his sanity. His inner sanctum was collapsing. The labyrinth where he meditated was crumbling. He couldn’t breath and he couldn’t see. Suddenly the whole world was ending, and he didn’t know where he was or who he was. All he knew was that the one thing that had made him truly happy throughout his whole life was about to be severed. 

He could hear himself hyperventilating, almost see himself, as if he were detached from his physical body. He was having a mental breakdown. He knew this, intellectually. But emotionally, he was overflowing, bursting at the seams. The dam was breaking, the water was flooding through, and he couldn’t control it. He couldn’t control any of it. 

“One… two… three…” he counted, trying to bring himself back to reality. “Four…. Four…” but he forgot what came next, his breathing ragged, shaky. He had been doomed to misery forever because his father did not approve of his t’hy’la. It was so absurd, too ridiculous to take seriously, and yet here he was, collapsed on the floor, unable to breath with the pain of knowing that he was to be torn apart from his soul mate. 

He would have to go back to Vulcan life. Go back to the hostile people, the hostile land, weather, and life. He would have to enrol in the Vulcan Science Academy, abandon his newly found dream of joining Starfleet. His life was over before it had even begun. He was being sentenced to a life of depression.

And it was all because his family did not agree with his Human blood. His Human heritage. The people he loved. Anger suddenly broke through the panic, as he took his PADD from the chair beside him and launched it across the room, watching it shatter into pieces. His own fractured mind failed to comprehend what he had just done- he had no control of the action. He had no control of the choking sobs that were coming out of him. Tear-drops were appearing on his trousers. He had been crying, and hadn’t even realised. 

It was difficult to register what was happening to him because he was so light headed from hyperventilating. But he could still hear the sound of his hoarse breathing, the occasional sob that broke through, his mother calling through the door behind him.

At some point, he must have crawled away from the door and let her in, because now she was sitting in front of him, eyes wide and worried, knowing. Her hands came to the sides of his head, and she looked directly into his eyes.

“Spock- Spock, look at me,” but it was hard. He was a frightened wild animal, and he couldn’t control the fear and dread and grief that was coursing through his body- grief for something that he hadn’t yet lost, but knew that he would. “Spock, look at me. That’s it, baby, that’s it-”

“I cannot leave him,” he choked. 

“I know, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry Spock- just follow my breathing. Breath with me. That’s it, that’s it.” Her voice was distant, but everything seemed to slowly come together again. After some time of breathing in time with his mother, who cradled his head like he was a child, wiping away his tears, he could see more clearly. He could see the situation for what it was- tragic, irreversible. 

Perhaps, at least, Jim would come out of it in one piece. 

As the panic subsided, the grief came forward. Tears rolled down his cheeks faster than before. And whilst the anxiety had been curbed, the pain could not be controlled. So he sobbed, clinging onto his mother and crying the tears that he had been holding in his whole life- the tears he would hold back when he came home with a split lip from school. But this was nothing like the comfort she gave on Vulcan. Now, Amanda was holding onto Spock as if he were about to fall of a ledge, desperately holding onto the son she knew. He held onto her in return, knowing he had nothing left- knowing that when he returned to Vulcan, and the bond was broken, he wouldn’t be Spock anymore. He would slip away into a sea of grief, for the rest of his life. 

The severed bond would leave him broken. And he was already breaking- there and then, in his mother’s arms, curled up on the floor. She wept for her son.

 

Jim was at home, drinking a cooling cup of coffee when he sensed Spock’s pain. The bond- though he understood little of it- tensed and shivered with panic and grief, so strong that it sent him flying off the sofa, pouring the coffee on the floor. 

Something had happened. Something was wrong with Spock. 

They were going to take him away from him.


	21. Dont You Forget About Me- Simple Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This has been a blast.
> 
> Please like and share- if you like it enough, I'll write an epilogue!
> 
> thank you to those who've read this over the years xxx

Jim ran out of the building, barely sitting on the bike before revving it into motion. He passed through red traffic lights, careered around corners, almost got into a nasty accident at one point, swerving round the back of a huge lorry. But he knew he had to get to Spock’s house, no matter the cost, so he sped down the San Francisco streets and contacted Bones on his in-helmet comm.

“Jim, what-?”

“Something’s wrong,” he shouted over the engine. “I think they’re going to take Spock back to Vulcan.”

“What?” Bones said, as Jim overtook a particularly slow car and anticipated Spock’s cul-de-sac. “They can’t!”

“I know, I’m going to stop them.”

“Who’s them?”

“I don’t know,” he said calmly, though he felt anything but calm- he could feel Spock practically screaming in panic in his mind, and it was making him nauseous just thinking about what they were going to do to him. “I don’t know, but I have to stop them. They can’t do this.”

“They won’t,” Bones said decisively. “Where are you headed?”

“His house.”

“Right. Keep me posted.”

Jim didn’t have time to register what that meant coming from Bones- he clearly cared an awful lot about Spock too, even if he didn’t admit it. Jim skidded down the road, which was now damp with rain, and turned a sharp corner, under-taking a van and getting an angry honk in response. The rain was spattering on his helmet, creating streaks round the sides with the speed he was cruising at. He noticed none of these things. Especially when he saw Spock coming out of his house, his mother at his side, Sarek behind him. 

Jim didn’t tear his eyes away from Spock long enough to notice Sarek looking up at his now empty home, appearing rather pensive and regretful for a Vulcan. He didn’t notice Amanda’s tight expression holding back the tears. He barely registered the gang of Vulcan body guards- he only knew they were there because that was what was stopping Spock from running towards him, running away, escaping this mess. No- Jim was too preoccupied with Spock’s tear stained face, his usually olive toned skin pale with exhaustion and dread. His dark eyes were shining with moisture. The moment Jim turned the corner onto his street, Spock found his gaze, eyes locking with his even through the distance. 

Jim had come too late. As soon as they saw Spock’s attention snap towards the boy careering down the road on the hover-bike, the guards were hurrying them into the car they had brought to escort them. Where? To the port? Jim shouted incoherently at them, watching Spock struggle in one guard’s grip.

“Don’t you touch him,” Amanda warned, her animal protective gaze enough to frighten the guard into loosening his grip on Spock’s shoulder. 

Jim watched Spock hurry towards the bike, before a wall of guards stepped in his way. He would ride his bike through the fucking lot of them before they took Spock back to Vulcan. Sarek hesitated at the car door, watching the event unfurl, and Jim hated him so much right now, but he could see that he hadn’t anticipated being forced out of his own home. This intervention was too much by anyone’s standards, and he was bristling with contempt. But it wasn’t enough- Jim sensed that this was out of his control now, for whatever reason, because they were all getting in the car, and Amanda was looking back at him with an unspoken, pained apology.

“No!” The car was starting, and Spock had managed to twist round in his seat, despite the security, to look through the rear window.

 _Jim._ He could hear him. Their bond was so strained, so desperate, so alive with the fear that it would break, that Jim could really sense it. _Jim._

 _Spock_ , he said aloud, and in his head. _I’m coming to get you. I won’t let them take you._

He followed the car on his bike, trying to keep his eyes on Spock’s- who was still watching him through the rear window- but the fuckers clearly wanted to loose him, so they turned a sharp corner, loosing Jim on his shitty hover-bike. 

“Fuck!” he shouted, he didn’t know this part of town well enough to find a short cut. But he knew where they were taking him. He knew from the desperation and the panic that they were taking him back to Vulcan- it had to be the port. And he knew how to get there from anywhere. 

So he leaned forward on his bike and revved. He snaked between honking cars, skidded past pedestrians crossing the road- one man dropping his shopping in surprise as Jim whizzed past him. He passed through a red light, ignoring the shouts of complaints from the other drivers. Ah, at last, he was closer to the part of town he knew- so he took a short cut through an ally, narrowly missing somebody’s washing line. He thanked God, if there was one, that this was a hover-bike and not a traditional one- the cobbles would’ve slowed this ride a lot more if he were on wheels. He was grateful nonetheless to come out of the ally and back onto the main road, where he sped past various cars. The escort cars had to be around here soon, right? He knew his bike wasn’t that fast, but he had to be catching up on them, right?

At that point, he saw something he never thought he’d ever witness.

A battered Chevrolet, red and rusty, only just hovering still, rolled round the corner as fast as it possibly could without falling apart. At the wheel, was his own very dear friend, Bones. In the passenger seat was Uhura, and cramped in the back was Scotty, Chekov, and Sulu. The car came up in the lane next to Jim.

Jim turned on his comm. “You guys! What are you doing here?”

“Coming to save Spock, obviously!” Scotty cried, leaning forward between the two front seats to scream into Bones’ comm. Bones tried to swat him away, Jim could see in his periphery. 

“We’re not letting him get away that easily!” Uhura said.

“Did you really think we were going to let you do this alone?” Sulu cried.

Yes, Jim almost said. Because he did almost everything alone, if he could help it, if it meant keeping his friends safe. But fuck, he was grateful they were here. He sped up down the road, overtaking on his little bike, Bones driving like a madman. It would never have occurred to Jim that he’d drive like that, since he was always going on at Jim for being reckless- and yet here he was, rocketing down the street without a care for his own safety. Or apparently anyone else’s in the car. Uhura was shouting at him to “hit the gas, hit the gas!” and Bones was shouting back “I’m doing the best I can, woman, Goddamn!”

The car skidded to a halt at a red light, and Jim carried on. 

“Go get him!” Bones shouted into the comm. 

So Jim did. He could see the port just beyond the next block. He had to get there in time. He _had_ to get there in time. 

 

Spock ascended the shuttle ramp wordlessly. He thought that if he tried to speak, he might either vomit, or cry. So he followed his mother’s flowing veil onto the ship, his father behind him, solid and supportive- though Spock would never had guessed it. The doors swished open for them. Two guards entered the next room, another two securing the entrance they’d just passed through. T’Pau was next door, now framed by two security personnel. She was as severe as he remembered. Her ornate braids framed her sharp face. She was fairly old now, so she remained seated- as was the way with royalty, anyway. Sarek and Amanda provided the Vulcan salute, to which T’Pau responded. 

Spock did not salute.

“You are forcing me to return to Vulcan,” he said simply, as if to explain his lack of greeting.

“You have been emotionally compromised by this friend of yours, James Tiberius Kirk.” She spoke evenly. She surveyed his tear stained face without disdain or sympathy. “He may be the son of well respected Starfleet officers; this does not change that he has set you on a certain path.”

“He is my t’hy’la.”

Where the guards had hesitated before, T’Pau did not. “You are too young to know of such a thing.”

“T’Pau.” Sarek stood forward, by his son’s side. He did not appear so strong or imposing, now. “I contacted you asking for help.”

“And I offer it.”

“And I am grateful,” he said. Spock could look at no one. He could not hear this without wanting to scream, collapse to the floor like before. So he began to count in his head again. _One, two, three, four, five…_ “However, at this point, I do not believe that removing Spock from Earth would be beneficial. This intervention is not necessary. He has shown that his bond is true. Not long before we left, he displayed the _so-resh_ of one who’s bond is threatened.”

“He is half Human,” she responded. “He is more likely to show emotional outbursts than one of pure Vulcan blood.”

“It will _kill_ him, T’Pau,” Amanda began, voice stronger than she probably felt. Spock swallowed, still unable to look at either of his parents, at his sides, or his grandmother. “Their bond is strong, if you take him away-”

“I love him,” Spock said. Everyone’s eyes turned to him as he interrupted. “James may be Human, but he also respects my Vulcan heritage. He feels the bond as strongly as I. You cannot- you cannot separate us, _T’Mir_.”

She watched Spock for a moment, before slowly making to stand. The guards made no move to help. No doubt this would appear insulting to her strong image. “You are like your father. Sarek was similarly determined to ignore my advice.” Sarek and Amanda were still by his sides, but he could still feel his mother’s anger bristle at T’Pau’s words. Her expression remained admirably composed, however. The older woman extended a hand, to meet his psi points. “I may judge the strength of the bond.”

Spock knew that as soon as T’Pau entered his mind, she would see the chaos, see just how weak he was, by Vulcan standards. But it was necessary to save his relationship with Jim. So he closed his eyes as T’Pau laid her wrinkled fingers across his temple, and let her see the destruction she had caused. That his father had unintentionally caused. 

His inner sanctum, where he usually so calmly meditated, bathing in Jim’s glow, was in ruins. The labyrinthine paths throughout his mind were blocked with rubble. It was dark and desolate, structure-less, old fragments of his control floating through the abyss of his mind. But at the centre of it, the bond still remained- thrumming, humming with golden light. It was love in its purest form, and even now, with Spock’s mind breaking- fracturing with the pressure of all these years trying to be someone he was not, with the fear of leaving Jim- the pieces of rubble were coming together again. The bond was the focus, the very centre of everything, and his mind was rebuilding itself around it, like meteors falling into a star’s gravitational field, coming together to form new planets. In the destruction, his mind was already rebuilding around the bright sun of Jim and Spock’s bond. 

T’Pau could not deny this. He felt her watch his mind reshaping and shifting around the power of the bond, her faint interest permeating through his thoughts. When he opened her eyes to see the woman step back, he saw the residual grief, pain in her eyes. Only for a moment. 

The room was still. Her hands folded themselves in front of her as she surveyed the small family- eyes going from Sarek, to Amanda, to Spock in the middle. 

“I underestimated the power of your bond.” Spock felt the relief of those words flood through him, and did his best not to show it in his expression. “Leave. _T’Kona_ ,” she said to Spock. ‘Do not return to Vulcan.’ 

He was happy to comply. 

Taking one look at his father, who nodded once, and his mother, who smiled at him with tears in her eyes, he ran off the shuttle. He did not look back to see his grandmother’s expression, or worry about her disdain for the situation. He had not chosen his t’hy’la, and he did not care if she judged him. Because there was Jim Kirk- he could see him just beyond the crowd of travellers in the port. Their bond drew them together, and their eyes met at the exact same time, Jim swinging off his bike and taking off his helmet as Spock ran down the shuttle ramp.

His friends were here too. McCoy had driven them in his frighteningly battered hover-car. But it was Jim who he could not take his eyes off, the two boys running towards each other in the crowd, drawn together. Spock coursed past families travelling off-planet, businessmen going to meetings, port workers. He swerved round them without taking his eyes of Jim. He was pushing past the crowd at his end, blue eyes bright with concern and tears. He had ridden his bike in the rain, his grey shirt soaked through and sticking to his body. His golden hair flowed in the wind of the speed of his running, as he jumped from one path to the next to find Spock amongst all the people. 

They’d entered a clearing and Spock was sprinting now. He was sprinting towards Jim because his life really did depend on it. This was his t’hy’la. Nothing could separate them.

In that moment Spock saw their future. He saw them on a foreign planet, running together to save lives. He saw the running through their very own Starship, side by side. He saw them being reunited after long trips. His feet carried him towards Jim, barely registering the tears streaming off his face. The crowds disappeared. Nobody was there but them.

They came together like magnets, inevitable, inseparable. 

When Spock reached him at last, he crushed him in his arms, spinning Jim around triumphantly in the sudden joy of the moment. 

“Jim!” he exclaimed, the bond exploding with victory and relief and the rightness of it all. 

“Spock- Oh God, Spock, don’t do that, don’t do that again. You can’t leave me.”

“I will never leave you,” he said. “I will never leave you, Jim.”

Jim’s face was buried in Spock’s shoulder, before he pulled back, taking Spock’s face in both hands, looking at him reverently- like he was the most precious thing alive. Spock was breathless, forgot _how_ to breath- not through anxiety, but pure amazement, awe of Jim being there in front of him. Being together when they so nearly weren’t. 

“I love you,” Spock said. 

“I love you,” Jim said, kissing him. Spock swept him up again, Jim touching the ground on his tiptoes. In the distance Spock registered his friends cheering. They broke apart their kiss to watch Sulu punch the air, Uhura crying and clapping happily. Chekov and Bones were high-fiving. 

Spock looked down at Jim. His blue eyes looked back like they’d never look away again, through fear of losing him. He gently, lovingly stroked back Jim’s hair, before pulling him into a hug. People may have been watching. Neither man would have realised, as they bathed in the glow of their bond. 

All that was left was for them to spend the rest of their lives together.


End file.
